Columbia  ^ftnitJersitp 

mtl)e€ttptjf39mtork 


THE  LIBRARIES 


AME  RICAN    ADVENTURE 


LAND    AND    SEA 


REMARKABI.E  INSTANCES  OF  ENTERPRISE  AND   FOR- 
TITUDE AMONG  AMERICANS 


SHIPWRECKS,    ADVENTURES   AT  HOME  AND  ABROAD, 
INDIAN   CAPTIVITIES,   ETC. 


IN  T^6~  Voi;r  MPS. 


A.    L.    FOWLE 

NEW  YORK 
1900 


^  'trdci^j) 


v.\ 


Oao,-  2/ 


PREFACE. 


The  title  of  this  work  sufficiently  indicates  tnat 
its  character  is  essentially  desultory.  From  the 
mass  of  material  presented,  it  has  been  the  ob- 
ject of  the  compiler  to  select  such  instances  of 
adventure  as  were  at  once  most  peculiarly  Ameri- 
can, and,  at  the  same  time  calculated  to  "  point 
a  moral"  as  well  as  "  adorn  a  tale."  Authen- 
ticity has  also '  been  a  main  consideration ;  and 
it  is  beheved  that  whatever  interest  these  volumes 
may  possess  is  due  to  simplicity  and  truth. 

The  existing  works,  of  which  most  frequent 
use  has  been  made  in  the  present  compilation, 
have  been  M'Clung's  excellent  Sketches  of  West- 
ern Adventure;  Hoyt's  American  Antiquarian 
Researches;  Audubon's  Ornithological  Adven- 
tures ;  the  Illinois  Magazine ;  General  Lee's 
Memoirs;  Wilkinson's  Memoirs;  Governor 
Morehead's  Address  on  the  Settlement  of  Ken- 
tucky ;  Life  of  Boone ;  Bradbury's  Travels ; 
Redding's  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters   at  Seaj 


4  PREFACE. 

Riley's  Narrative ;  Mariner's  Library ;  the  En- 
glish and  American  Annual  Registers. 

A  volume  of  Harper's  District  School  Library 
has  already  been  devoted  to  a  full  account  of  the 
whale-fishery.  That  fertile  field  of  enterprise 
and  adventure  has  consequently  been  left  untouch- 
ed in  the  present  collection. 

The  narratives  here  presented  of  adventure  by 
land  and  sea  are  well  fitted  to  impress  upon  the 
mind  the  importance  of  the  heroic  virtues  of  self- 
possession  and  fortitude,  in  sustaining  and  saving 
life  in  moments  of  extreme  peril,  when  there  is 
apparently  no  earthly  hope  remaining.  "  Provi- 
dence helps  those  who  help  themselves"  is  a 
truth,  which  will  be  found  amply  illustrated  in 
these  pages. 


CONl^ENTS 


OF 


THE    FIRST    VO  LUM 


CHAPTER  I. 

Character  of  early  American  Adventure  by  Land  — 
Adventures  of  the  Regicides  in  New  England        .         9 

CHAPTER  II. 

Expedition  of  Captain  Turner  against  the  Indians  of 
the  Connecticut  —  Personal  Adventures  of  Wells 
and  Atherton 22 

CHAPTER  HI. 

rhe  Rifleman  of  Chippewa  —  The  Indian  and  the 
Hostess  —  How  to  elude  Torture  —  Duplicity  re- 
warded         34 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Escape  of  two  distinguished  American  Prisoners  from 
the  British 46 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Adventures  of  Sergeant  Champein  his  Attempt  to  cap- 
ture the  Traitor  Arnold         59 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Capture  of  James  Smith  by  a  Tribe  of  Indians  in  Penn- 
sylvania—  His  Adventures  among  them         .        .       81 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Kentucky  Adventurers  and  Daniel  Boone  .     124 

CHAPTER  Vm. 

Kenton  the  Spy,  and  his  hairbreadth  Escapes  .     155 

CHAPTER  IX. 

A  gallant  Deed  and  a  ruthless  One — Logan  andMc- 
Gary 177 

CHAPTER  X. 

Crawford's  disastrous  Expedition  —  His   melancholy 
End  —  Adventures  and  Escape  of  Dr.  Knight       .     188 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A  Tussle  with  a  Wildcat  —  Remarkable  Conflict  with 
an  Indian  —  Female  Intrepidity  .         .         .199 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Adam  Poe's  Encounter  with  Big-Foot  —  M'ConnePs 
Capture  and  Escape  210 

CHAPTER  Xm. 

A  Family  attacked — A  wild  white  Man —  Singular 
Defence 224 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Hubbell's  Encounter  on  the  Ohio  —  Male  and  Female 
Daring  —  The  Daviess  Family  —  Colter's  Escape       24C 

CHAPTER  XV. 

A  Forest  on  Fire  —  The  Regulators  —  Avalanche  (/. 
the  White  Mountains  —  Discoverv  of  a  Cave  .     27  7 


AMERICAN  ADVENTURE 


CHAPTER  I. 

CIURACTER    OF    EARLY    AMERICAN     ADVENTURE     BY 

LAND. ^ADVENTURES    OF    THE    REGICIDES    IN   NEW 

ENGLAND. 

Examples  of  individual  enterprise  and  adven- 
ture abound  in  our  early  annals.  They  are  most- 
ly however  of  a  uniform  character.  The  same 
features  have  always  distinguished  the  struggles 
of  our  frontier  inhabitants  with  the  original  occu- 
pants of  the  soil ;  and  these  struggles  afforded 
the  principal  field  for  courage  and  adventure  to 
our  forefathers.  Instances  of  heroic  fortitude, 
sagacity,  and  daring,  may  be  quoted,  which  are 
full  of  interest  and  instruction.  Such  adventures 
possess  not  an  historic  value  only.  They  convey 
lessons  by  which  all  may  benefit,  and  furnish 
hints  which,  in  moments  of  emergency,  may  re- 
ci]r  to  the  mind  and  prove  of  invaluable  assistanc** 


10  ADVENTURES    OF    THE    REGICIDES 

Immediately  after  the  restoration  of  Kinp 
Charles  the  Second  to  the  throne  of  England  in 
1660,  a  number  of  the  judges,  who  sat  on  the 
trial  of  King  Charles  the  First,  were  seized,  tried 
and  condemned  at  the  Old  Bailey,  and  promptly 
executed.  Others  foreseeing  their  fate  fled  from 
the  realm  before  the  king  was  proclaimed.  Two 
of  those  regicides,  as  they  w^ere  termed.  Colonel 
Edward  Whalley  and  William  GofFe,  sailed  for 
New  England,  and  arrived  at  Boston,  July,  1660. 
Whalley  had  served  as  a  lieutenant-general,  and 
Goffe  as  a  major-general,  in  Cromwell's  army. 
Both  had  distinguished  themselves  in  various 
battles  as  well  as  many  other  important  transac- 
tions, and  had  been  much  in  the  confidence  of 
the  lord-protector.  Both  were  commissioners 
appointed  for  the  trial  of  the  king,  and  both  sign- 
ed the  warrant  for  his  execution.  They  had  there- 
fore httle  expectation  of  escaping  the  rigid  pun- 
ishment for  treason,  should  they  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  English  government.  GofFe  had 
married  a  daughter  of  Whalley,  and  was  not 
less  attached  to  his  father-in-law  from  principle 
than  from  his  family  connexion. 

At  Boston  they  were  courteously  received  by 
Governor  Endicott  and  the  principal  gentlemen 
of  the  town ;  and  though  they  did  not  secrete 


IN   NEW   ENGLAND.  11 

themselves,  they  chose  a  more  retired  place  and 
resided  some  time  at  Cambridge.  In  the  mean- 
time, they  visited  many  of  the  adjacent  towns, 
were  openly  seen  at  public  worship  and  at  several 
public  places,  and  appear  to  have  been  much 
esteemed  by  the  people. 

On  learning  that  several  of  the  regicides  had 
been  condemned  and  executed  in  England,  and 
that  Whalley  and  Goffe  were  not  included  in  the 
act  of  pardon,  the  people  of  Boston,  who  had 
harbored  them,  began  to  be  alarmed.  The  gov- 
ernor assembled  a  court  of  assistants  to  consult 
upon  measures  for  the  apprehension  of  the  judges ; 
but  a  majority  would  not  consent  to  the  project, 
and  several  even  declared  that  they  would  pro- 
tect them  at  all  hazards.  Finding  themselves 
unsafe  at  Cambridge,  and  being  advised  b^  their 
friends  to  remove,  the  judges  left  the  place,  and 
proceeded  to  Hartford  in  Connecticut,  and  thence 
to  New  Haven,  where  they  arrived  the  seventh 
of  March,  1661,  and  took  lodging  at  the  house 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Davenport.  Here  they  were 
treated  with  marked  attention  by  the  leading  peo- 
ple, not  only  as  men  of  great  minds,  but  of  un- 
feigned piety  and  rehgion ;  and  finding  them- 
selves among  such  friends  they  flattered  them- 
selves they  were  out  of  danger 


12  ADVENTURES    OF    THE   REGICIDES 

It  was  soon  known  in  England,  that  the  two 
mdges  had  landed  at  Boston,  and  the  king's  pro- 
clamation was  afterward  received  there,  requiring 
that  they  should  be  apprehended.  The  governor 
of  Massachusetts  accordingly  issued  his  warrant 
for  this  purpose,  and  a  slight  search  was  made 
through  the  towns  in  the  province,  and  particu- 
larly at  Springfield,  and  other  villages  on  Con- 
necticut river,  but  the  judges  had  previously  left 
the  province,  and  were  secure  among  their  fi*iends 
at  New  Haven. 

Sometime  after,  the  governor  of  Massachusetts 
received  a  royal  mandate,  requiring  him  to  ap- 
prehend the  regicides,  accompanied  by  some  in- 
timations that  their  friendly  reception  at  Boston 
had  been  noticed.  This  produced  an  alarm,  and 
a  more  thorough  search  was  made  through  the 
tovras.  Hadley,  at  this  time,  is  said  to  have  been 
examined  by  officers  sent  on  the  service,  but  not 
with  a  very  close  scrutiny. 

In  the  meantime  the  judges,  secretly  apprized 
of  the  measures  taken  for  their  apprehension,  re- 
moved to  Milford,  where  they  appeared  openly 
in  the  daytime,  but  at  night  often  returned  to 
New  Haven,  and  were  secreted  at  Mr.  Daven- 
port's. At  length  two  English  merchants,  Kel- 
Jond  and  Kirk,  both  zealous  royalists,  were  com- 


IN   NEW    ENGLAND.  13 

missioned  to  go  through  the  colonies  as  far  as  Man- 
hattan in  search  of  the  regicides.  Seasonably 
informed  of  the  plan  to  apprehend  them,  the  har- 
assed judges  removed  from  Mr.  Davenport's^  and 
secreted  themselves  in  various  places  about  New- 
Haven  ;  first  at  a  mill,  then  in  the  woods,  and 
at  last  in  a  singular  natural  cave  on  West  Rock, 
where  they  continued  for  some  time,  and  were 
provided  with  the  means  of  subsistence  by  their 
friends. 

During  this  time  Kellond  and  Kirk  arrived 
at  New  Haven,  and  with  the  reluctant  aid  of 
the  officers  of  government,  made  search  for  the 
judges,  but  without  effect.  They  then  passed  on 
to  Manhattan,  and  gaining  no  information  of  the 
objects  of  their  pursuit,  returned  to  Boston,  and 
made  report  of  their  proceedings,  in  which  the 
magistrates  at  New  Haven  were  represented  as 
friendly  to  the  judges,  and  as  having  used  secret 
means  to  prevent  their  apprehension.  Daven- 
port and  Lieutenant-Governor  Leet  were  impli- 
cated in  the  affair,  and  some  apprehensions  were 
entertained  for  their  safety.  Informed  of  this, 
the  judges  offered  to  surrender  themselves  rather 
than  expose  their  friends  to  punishment,  and  they 
actually  appeared  openly  at  New  Haven  But 
through  the  advice  of  friends  they  changed  their 


14      ADVENTURES  OF  THE  REGICmES 

determination,  and  again  retired  to  their  cave, 
and  other  secluded  hiding-places  in  the  vicinity, 
and  were  seen  occasionally  by  a  few  persons  in 
vhom  they  could  confide. 

During  this  seclusion  in  the  cave  on  West 
Rock,  to  their  fear  of  apprehension  was  added 
that  of  the  Indians  and  ferocious  animals.  One 
night  as  they  reposed  on  their  hard  couch,  a  huge 
catamount,  with  blazing  eyes  and  furious  grin, 
thrust  his  head  into  the  aperture  of  the  rock,  giv- 
ing a  horrible  growl;  but  the  creature  departed 
without  injury  to  the  proscribed  fugitives.  At 
another  time,  during  their  absence  from  the  cave, 
a  party  of  Indians  on  a  hunting  excursion  acci- 
dentally discovered  the  cave  and  the  couch  on 
which  the  unfortimate  exiles  reposed.  The  cir- 
cumstance being  reported  by  the  Indians,  it  was 
deemed  dangerous  to  continue  longer  in  the 
place,  and  the  regicides  abandoned  it  for  another 
more  secluded. 

In  1664,  several  commissioners  arrived  at  Bos- 
ton on  business  relating  to  the  colonies;  and,  as 
they  were  instructed  by  King  Charles,  to  make 
mquiry  for  the  two  regicides,  and  as  the  places 
of  the  seclusion  of  these  harassed  men  were  now 
known  to  many  at  New  Haven,  they  resolved  to 
remove  to  some  more  distant  spot.     The  Rev 


IN    NEW     ENGLAND.  15 

Mr.  Russel  of  Hadley  consented  to  receive  thein 
into  his  house.  After  having  endured  a  dreary 
pilgrimage  of  three  years  and  seven  months,  at 
and  about  New  Haven,  they  undertook  the  jour- 
ney to  Hadley  on  the  thirteenth  of  October,  1664. 
Travelling  in  the  night  only,  they  eluded  discov- 
ery, and  arrived  at  Mr.  Russel's  hospitable  man- 
sion, after  a  tedious  march  of  about  one  hundred 
miles. 

The  house  of  the  friendly  clergyman,  situated 
on  the  east  side  of  the  main  street,  near  the  centre 
of  the  village,  was  of  two  stories,  with  a  kitchen 
attached,  and  ingeniously  fitted  up  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  judges.  The  east  chamber  was 
assigned  for  their  residence,  from  which  a  door 
opened  into  a  closet,  back  of  the  chimney,  and  a 
secret  trap-door  communicated  with  an  under- 
closet,  from  which  was  a  private  passage  to  the 
cellar,  into  which  it  was  easy  to  descend  in  the 
event  of  a  search  being  made  after  them. 

Here,  unknown  except  to  a  few  confidential 
friends,  and  the  family  of  Mr.  Russel,  the  judges 
remained  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  secluded  from 
the  world,  constantly  exposed  to  discovery  from 
some  unfaithful  person  or  from  some  unfortunate 
circumstance,  in  which  case  an  ignominious 
death  war  inevitable.     And   vvhen  it  is  known 


16  ADVENTURES   OF    THE    REGICIDES 

that  Hadley  became  the  headquarters  of  the 
army,  employed  for  the  defence  of  the  towns  on 
Connecticut  river,  in  the  war  with  Phihp,  in  1675 
and  1676,  while  the  judges  were  in  the  place — 
that  soldiers  were  billeted  on  the  inhabitants  and 
vigilant  officers  quartered  in  the  village — the  es- 
cape of  the  exiles  is  truly  astonishing,  and  evin- 
ces that  the  faithful  minister  possessed  resources 
of  concealment  beyond  most  men.  It  is  not 
is:nown  with  certainty,  that  more  than  one  gen- 
tleman of  the  village  beside  Mr.  Russel's  family, 
was  in  the  dangerous  secret  of  the  judges'  con- 
cealment. This  was  Peter  Tilton,  whose  house 
stood  on  the  same  side  of  the  street ;  and  with 
him  the  regicides  are  said  to  have  occasionally 
resided.  A  Mr.  Smith  is  also  said  to  have  been 
in  the  secret,  and  to  have  occasionally  admitted 
the  exiles  to  his  house. 

Mr.  Tilton  was  a  magistrate  and  a  man  of 
note  in  his  part  of  the  country;  and  much  em- 
ployed in  public  business,  having  been  often  a 
member  of  the  colonial  legislative  assembly  from 
Hadley.  As  he  was  frequently  in  Boston,  at 
tending  to  his  official  duties,  donations  to  the 
judges  were  made  through  his  hands  with  safety, 
Richard  Saltonstall,  who  was  in  the  secret,  on 
his  departure  for  England  in  1672,  sent  them 


IN    NEW    ENGIAND.  17 

fifty  pounds.  They  received  donations  also  from 
others;  and  their  wives  remitted  them  money 
from  England,  through  their  secret  friends,  for 
whom  Tilton  was  the  trusty  agent. 

During  his  residence  at  Hadley,  Goffe  held  a 
correspondence  with  his  wife  in  England,  under 
'he  feigned  name  of  Walter  Goldsmith  ;  but  his 
letters  were  written  so  enigmatically,  that  none 
but  an  intimate  acquaintance  could  fully  compre- 
hend them.  By  one  of  the  letters  dated  Apri) 
second,  1679,  it  appears  that  Whalley  died  some 
time  previously  at  Mr.  Russel's.  He  was  buried 
in  a  sort  of  tomb  formed  of  masonwork  and 
covered  with  flags  of  hewn  stone,  just  without 
he  cellar-wall  of  Russel's  house,  where  his  bones 
were  recently  found  by  a  Mr.  Gaylord,  who  built 
a  house  on  the  spot  as  late  as  1794. 

Not  long  after  the  decease  of  Whalley,  Goflfe 
.eft  Hadley,  and  travelled  to  the  southward. 
No  certain  information  of  him  was  afterward 
obtained.  Vague  rumors,  however,  say  that  he 
went  to  Manhattan  or  New  York,  where  he  tar- 
ried some  time  in  disguise,  and  supported  himself 
by  conveying  vegetables  to  market.  Where, 
when,  or  how  he  died  is  unknown.  There  is 
one  event  in  his  history,  how^ever,  which  partakes 
12—2 


18  ADVENTURES    OF    THE    REGICIDES 

of  the  character  of  romance.  It  occurred  during 
his  residence  with  the  hospitable  Mr.  Russel. 

In  May,  1675,  six  hundred  hostile  Indians, 
under  Philip,  appeared  at  Hatfield,  rushing  sud- 
denly into  the  place.  Twelve  unfortified  build- 
ings were  immediately  fired,  and  several  palisaded 
dwelHnghouses  violently  attacked,  and  braveh 
defended  by  a  few  people.  Being  with  diffi- 
culty repulsed,  the  Indians  renewed  the  attack  on 
the  twelfth  of  June  with  additional  forces.  Hav- 
ing laid  an  ambuscade  the  preceding  night,  they 
commenced  the  attack  at  daylight  with  great 
spirit.  Though  warmly  opposed  they  seemed 
determined  on  carrying  the  place.  They  pressed 
on  with  the  greatest  fury.  The  Americsns  were 
on  the  point  of  giving  way,  and  flying  in  confu- 
sion. At  a  critical  moment,  however,  a  re-en- 
forcement appeared  in  the  person  of  a  man  of 
venerable  aspect,  who  differed  from  the  rest  ot 
the  inhabitants  in  his  apparel.  No  one  remem- 
bered to  have  seen  him  before. 

The  stranger  placed  himself  at  the  head  ot 
the  people,  as  if  he  had  been  habituated  to  the 
command  of  armies.  His  eye  kindled  as  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  past  years,  and  he  issued  his 
directions  with  that  air  of  authority,  which  one 
naturally  acquires,  who  knows  not  what  it  is  to 


IN   NEW   ENGLAND.  19 

be  disobeyed.  His  arrangements  for  the  defence 
of  the  place  evinced  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  mihtary  tactics,  and  his  undaunted  coolness 
and  courage  in  the  midst  of  danger  served  to  re- 
animate the  men.  Calling  upon  them  to  follow 
him,  and  not  even  glancing  behind  to  see  whether 
he  was  obeyed,  he  rushed  like  a  destroying  agent 
upon  the  foe,  who  regarded  him  with  supersti- 
tious amazement,  and  soon  fled  precipitately. 

As  soon  as  the  battle  was  ended  and  the  Indians 
had  retired,  the  stranger  suddenly  disappeared, 
nor  could  any  one  tell  where  or  how.  Who  was 
this  brave  and  mysterious  deliverer  1  His  depart- 
ure had  been  as  abrupt  and  unaccountable  as 
his  coming.  The  good  people  of  Hadley,  unable 
to  arrive  at  any  other  solution,  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  he  was  an  angelic  auxiliary  commis- 
sioned by  the  great  Ruler  of  the  universe.  His 
grave  and  noble  visage,  his  air  of  confident 
authority,  his  unshrinking  courage,  activity,  and 
skill,  and  the  mystery  which  attended  the  cir- 
cumstance of  his  appearance  —  all  tended  tc 
confirm  them  in  this  belief. 

It  will  be  recollected  that,  at  this  time,  the 
two  judges  Whalley  and  Goffe,  were  secreted  in 
the  village,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Russel.  The 
supposed  angel  was  then  no  other  than  General 


20  ADVENTURES   OF    THE    REGICIDES 

Goife,  who,  seeing  the  village  in  imminent 
danger,  risked  his  own  safety,  quitted  his  place 
of  concealment,  assumed  the  command  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  animated  them  to  a  vigorous 
defence.  Whalley  being  then  superannuated, 
probably  remained  in  his  secluded  chamber. 

Not  long  after  the  two  judges  came  to  Hadley, 
Colonel  John  Dixwell,  another  of  the  judges, 
joined  them  at  Mr.  Russel's,  where  he  resided 
some  time;  but  departing  from  that  place,  and 
wandering  about  the  country,  he  at  length  settled 
dow^n  at  New  Haven,  under  the  assumed  name 
of  Davids,  where  he  married  and  had  several 
children.  His  real  name  and  character  were  not 
made  known  to  the  public  until  his  death,  which 
happened  in  1689 ;  nor  was  it  known  in  Eng- 
land that  he  had  fled  to  America.  He  was 
buried  at  New  Haven,  and  his  gravestone, 
marked  with  his  initials,  "  J.  D.,  Esq.,  deceased 
March  18,  in  the  82d  year  of  his  age — 1688, 
-'9,"  is  often  visited  as  a  curiosity. 

The  story  of  the  judges  was  first  given  to  the 
world  in  1764,  by  Governor  Hutchinson,  who 
obtained  it  from  manuscripts  found  among  the 
papers  of  the  Mather  family  of  Boston ;  by 
whom  they  are  supposed  to  have  been  procured 
from  the  descendants  of  Mr.  Russel.     Its  devel- 


IN    NEW    ENGLAND.  21 

opment  during  the  lives  of  the  actors  in  the 
scene,  would  have  exposed  them  to  imminent 
danger,  and  perhaps  have  cost  them  their  lives. 
Among  the  papers  procured  by  Hutchinson,  was 
a  journal  kept  by  Goffe,  from  the  time  he  *1eft 
England,  to  the  year  1667.  This  and  other 
papers  relating  to  the  regicides  were  probably 
destroyed  at  the  time  the  governor's  house  was 
rifled  by  the  mob  in  Boston  in  1765. 

Of  the  motives  and  the  conduct  of  the  regi 
cides  in  ordering  the  execution  of  King  Charles 
I.,  different  opinions  are  entertained.  They 
appear  to  have  been  men  of  pure  lives,  and  w^e 
can  readily  beheve  that  they  were  actuated  by 
conscientious  dictates.  If  we  regard  their  act 
as  merely  one  of  policy  in  the  upholding  of  their 
own  views  of  government,  we  cannot  find  fault 
with  their  decision.  Let  us  hope,  however,  that 
the  day  of  such  bloody  revolutions  has  gone  by. 
May  those  which  remain  to  be  accomplished, 
be  brought  about  by  the  resistless  but  peaceable 
and  benignant  influence  of  public  opinion. 


$&  EXPEDITION    OF    CAPTAIN    TURNER 


CHAPTER  11. 

EXPEDITION     OF     CAPTAIN      TURNER     AGAINST      TM 

INDIANS    OF    THE     CONNECTICUT PERSONAL    AD 

VENTURES   OF    WELLS    AND    ATHERTON. 

No  river  in  New  England  was  wont  to  affor 
a  greater  abundance  of  fish  than  the  Connecticut 
and  no  place  on  the  river  presented  a  more 
favorable  station  for  taking  them  than  the  falls 
between  the  towns  of  Gill  and  Montague. 
Many  of  the  present  generation  can  recollect 
when  upward  of  five  thousand  shad  have  been 
taken  in  a  day,  by  dipping  nets  at  Burnham's 
rock  near  that  place.  This  rock  was  situated 
at  the  bend  of  the  cataract,  and  none  but  the 
most  skilful  watermen  attempted  to  navigate  a 
light  canoe  or  batteau  to  it ;  and  even  by  these 
the  task  was  considered  extremely  perilous.  It 
was  approached  from  above  by  a  dexterous  and 
delicate  use  of  the  paddle,  and  an  eye  that  could 
measure  a  mite,  and  resolve  compound  forces  at 


AGAINST  THE  INDIANS  OF  THE    CONNECTICUT.    23 

a  glance.  A  deviation  of  a  few  feet  in  steering 
was  certain  to  plunge  the  adventurer  down  the 
rugged  cataract,  in  which  case  drowning  must 
ensue. 

This  rock  is  now  covered  by  the  water  raised 
by  a  lofty  dam,  constructed  below,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  diverting  the  stream  from  its  natural 
course  into  a  canal.  The  river  for  some  distance 
above,  flowing  smoothly  in  a  southwest  direction, 
makes  a  sudden  turn  to  the  northwest,  about 
half  a  mile  above  the  fall,  and  curving  to  the 
right  assumes  nearly  a  north  course.  Here  it 
meets  with  a  chain  of  rocks,  stretching  across 
the  whole  channel,  crowned  by  two  rocky 
islands,  and  falls  abruptly  forty  or  fifty  feet  into 
a  cavity,  in  wild  confusion.  Continuing  its 
boiling  course  a  short  distance,  it  receives  Fall 
river,  a  small  stream  from  the  north,  and  then 
making  a  sharp  flexure  to  the  left,  and  passing 
over  a  smaller  bar  below,  and  several  islands,  it 
takes  its  usual  southerly  course  a  little  below 
Deerfield  river. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  year  1675,  several 
hundred  Indians  had  taken  up  their  station  on 
an  elevated  ground  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
river  at  the  head  of  the  fall.  A  smaller  party 
occupied  the  opposite  bank,  and  another  was 


24  EXPEDITION    OF    CAPTAIN    TURNER 

stationed  at  what  is  now  called  Smead's  island, 
more  than  a  mile  below.  As  the  American  forces 
at  Hadley  and  the  adjacent  towns  were  not  at  this 
time  very  numerous,  the  Indians  considered 
themselves  little  exposed  to  an  attack,  and  had 
become  remiss  in  guarding  their  station.  Two 
lads,  Stebbins  and  Gilbert,  who  had  been  taken 
prisoners  on  the  river  below,  and  carried  to  the 
falls,  fortunately  escaped,  and  informed  the 
colonists  of  the  positions  and  the  remissness  of 
the  Indians. 

On  the  reception  of  this  intelligence,  it  was 
determined  to  collect  a  force  from  Springfield, 
Northampton,  Hadley,  and  Hatfield,  and  strike 
at  the  enemy  at  the  falls.  About  one  hundred 
and  sixty  mounted  men  assembled  at  Hatfield 
under  Captain  Turner  of  the  colony  troops,  as 
commander,  and  Captain  Holyoke  of  the  Spring- 
field, and  Ensign  Lyman  of  the  Northampton 
militia,  and,  under  the  direction  of  two  skilful 
guides,  commenced  their  march  for  the  falls. 
The  distance  was  about  twenty  miles. 

Passing  the  ruins  of  Deerfield,  and  the  river  at 
the  northerly  part  of  the  meadow  in  that  town, 
they  were  heard  by  a  lodge  of  Indians,  seated 
at  a  spot  now  called  Cheapside.  The  Indians 
immediately  turned  out,  and  made   an  explora- 


AGAINST  THE  INDIANS  OF  THE  CONNECTICUT.     25 

tion,  but  finding  no  trail  they  concluded  that 
the  noise  proceeded  from  moose  wading  in  the 
river,  and  returned  to  their  lodge.  Eluding 
these  Indians,  Turner  continued  his  march  into 
what  is  now  Greenfield  meadow,  and  passing 
Green  river  and  a  trackless  forest  of  about  four 
miles,  he  halted  on  elevated  land,  a  small  dis- 
tance west  of  Fall  river,  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  Indian  camp  at  the  falls,  where  his  men  dis- 
mounted and  left  their  horses  tied  to  saplings, 
under  a  small  guard. 

Day  was  now  about  to  dawn,  but  all  was  still 
in  the  Indian  camp.  Preparations  for  the  attack 
wore  quickly  made,  and  the  march  was  instantly 
commenced.  Crossing  Fall  river,  and  climbing 
a  steep  hill,  the  colonists  rapidly  traversed  an 
m*ervening  wood  and  rushed  upon  the  back  of 
the  Indian  camp.  The  unconscious  savages  were 
in  a  profound  sleep,  not  having  even  taken  the 
precaution  to  place  sentinels.  Roused  from  their 
slumbers  by  the  sudden  roar  of  musketry,  they 
fled  toward  the  river,  vociferating,  "  Mohawks  ' 
Mohawks !"  believing  this  furious  enemy  was 
upon  them.  Many  leaped  into  their  canoes. 
Some  in  their  haste  forgot  their  paddles,  and 
were  shot  in  the  attempt  to  cross  the  river, 
r.— C 


26  EXPEDITION    OF    CAPTAIN    TURNER 

Some  were  precipitated  down  the  dreadful  cata- 
ract and  drowned,  while  others  were  killed  in 
their  wigwams,  or  took  shelter  under  the  shelving 
rocks  of  the  river  bank,  where  they  were  cut 
down  by  the  colonists  without  offering  much 
resistance. 

Captain  Holyoke  is  said  to  have  despatched 
ii\  e  of  these  Indians  with  his  own  sword ;  nor 
did  the  soldiers  manifest  less  activity.  All  per- 
formed their  duty  in  a  most  gallant  manner,  and 
the  affair  was  soon  over,  with  the  loss  of  only  one 
man  on  the  part  of  the  assailants.  The  loss  of 
the  Indians  was  severe.  One  hundred  were  left 
dead  on  the  ground,  and  one  hundred  and  forty 
were  seen  to  pass  down  the  cataract,  of  whom 
but  one  escaped  drowning.  A  few  gained  the 
opposite  shore,  and  joined  their  companions. 
The  whole  loss,  as  was  afterward  acknowledged, 
amounted  to  about  three  hundred,  among  whom 
were  many  of  their  principal  sachems. 

Having  thus  effected  his  principal  object,  col- 
lected his  men,  and  destroyed  the  Indian  cabins, 
Turner  commenced  his  march  toward  the  spot, 
where  the  party  had  left  their  horses.  At  this 
moment  a  number  of  Indians  were  seen  crossing 
the  river  a  little  above  the  fall.  Twenty  brave 
fellows  volunteered  to   attack  them;  but  they 


AGAINST    THE    INDIANS    OF    THE    CONNECTICUT.    27 

were  soon  forced  to  retire,  and  with  some  diffi- 
culty reached  Turner's  main  body. 

Having  recovered  the  horses,  and  mounted, 
Turner  commenced  his  march  for  Hatfield  — 
Molyoke,  with  a  part  of  the  force,  covering  the 
rear.  By  this  time  the  Indians  from  the  east 
side  of  the  river  had  joined  those  at  Smead's 
island,  crossed  over,  and  were  advancing  on  the 
left  and  rear  of  the  colonists.  Holyoke  received 
them  with  resolution,  and  repulsed  them  several 
times.  In  one  of  these  onsets,  his  horse  was 
shot  down,  upon  which  the  Indians  rushed  up 
to  seize  him ;  but,  drawing  his  pistol,  he  shot 
the  foremost,  which  checked  the  others,  and  one 
of  his  own  men  coming  up  to  his  aid  he  escaped 
the  grasp  of  the  enemy. 

By  a  captive  the  colonists  had  been  informed 
that  Philip  was  now  approaching  with  a  thou- 
sand Indians.  This,  with  several  attacks  from 
different  quarters,  produced  a  panic  among  the 
men,  and  the  main  body  at  length  fell  into  con- 
fusion, and  separated  into  different  parties  with 
different  leaders.  A  thickly-covered  morass, 
commencing  in  the  vicinity  of  the  falls,  extended 
along  the  left  flank  of  the  retreating  troops, 
nearly  to  Green  river,  affording  a  cover  for  the 
enemy.     Attempting  to  cross  this,  one  of  the  re- 


28  EXPEDITION    OF    CAPTAIN    TURNER. 

treating  parties  was  cut  off  by  the  Indians. 
Another  party  got  bewildered,  and,  wandering 
from  the  course,  was  captured.  The  prisonei-s, 
as  was  afterward  learned,  were  burnt  at  the 
stake.  Captain  Turner,  at  the  head  of  the  van, 
was  much  enfeebled  by  previous  illness,  and 
unable  to  act  with  his  usual  vigor,  or,  with  his 
disordered  troops,  to  afford  aid  to  the  rear.  At 
length,  with  much  difficulty,  he  reached  Green 
river,  where  the  enemy  came  up  and  attacked 
him  as  he  was  passing  over,  and  he  fell  mortally 
wounded  by  a  musket-shot.  Captain  Holyoke, 
upon  whom  the  command  devolved,  continued 
the  retreat  through  the  meadow  bordering  Green 
river,  and,  crossing  a  pine  plain  and  Deerfield 
river,  he  entered  the  meadow  in  that  town  hard 
pressed  by  the  Indians.  After  sustaining  several 
warm  attacks,  he  arrived  at  Hatfield  with  the 
loss  of  thirty-eight  men. 

A  case  of  individual  suffering  occurred  in  this 
expedition,  which  deserves  notice.  Mr.  Jonathan 
Wells,  of  Hatfield,  one  of  the  twenty  who  re- 
mained in  the  rear  when  Turner  began  his  march 
fi-om  the  falls,  soon  after  mounting  his  horse,  re- 
ceived a  shot  in  one  of  his  thighs,  which  had 
previously  been  fractured  and  badly  healed. 
Another  shot  wounded  his  horse.     With  much 


PERSONAL    ADVENTURES    OF    WELLS.  29 

difficulty,  Wells  kept  his  saddle,  and,  after  several 
narrow  escapes,  joined  the  main  body  just  at  the 
time  it  was  separating  into  different  parties,  as 
has  been  related.  Attaching  himself  to  one  that 
was  making  toward  the  swamp  on  the  left,  and 
perceiving  the  enemy  in  that  direction,  he  altered 
his  route,  and  joined  another  party  flying  in  a 
diiferent  direction. 

Unable  to  keep  up  with  the  party,  he  was 
soon  left  alone,  but  shortly  afterward  fell  in  with 
one  Jones,  who  was  also  wounded.  The  woods 
being  thick,  and  the  weather  cloudy,  they  soon 
got  bewildered.  Wells  lost  his  companion,  and 
after  wandering  in  various  directions,  accidentally 
struck  Green  river,  and  proceeding  up  the  stream 
arrived  at  a  place  since  called  the  country  farms, 
in  the  northerly  part  of  Greenfield.  Passing  the 
river  and  attempting  to  ascend  an  abrupt  hill 
bordering  the  shore,  he  fell  from  his  horse  ex- 
hausted. 

After  lying  senseless  for  some  time,  Wells  re- 
vived and  found  his  faithful  horse  still  standing 
patiently  by  his  side.  Making  him  fast  to  a  tree, 
he  again  lay  down  to  rest  himself,  but  finding  he 
should  not  be  able  to  remount,  he  tiu-ned  the 
horse  loose,  and,  making  use  of  his  gun  as  a 
crutch,  hobbled  up  the  river,  directly  opposite  to 


30  EXPEDITION   OF    CAPTAIN   TURNER. 

the  course  he  ought  to  have  taken.  His  progress 
was  slow  and  painful,  and  being  much  annoyed 
by  moschetoes,  he  kindled  a  fire  toward  night, 
which  soon  spread  in  all  directions,  so  that  it 
was  with  some  difficulty  he  avoided  the  flames. 
New  fears  now  were  suggested.  The  fire  would 
probably  guide  the  Indians  to  the  spot,  and  he 
should  be  sacrificed  to  their  fury.  Under  these 
impressions  he  divested  himself  of  his  ammuni- 
tion, that  it  might  not  fall  into  their  hands  — 
bound  up  his  thigh  with  a  handkerchief,  and 
stanched  the  blood  —  and  composing  himself  as 
well  as  he  could,  soon  fell  asleep.  Probably, 
before  this,  he  had  conjectured  that  he  was  pur- 
suing a  wrong  course,  for  in  a  dream  he  imagin- 
ed himself  bewildered,  and  was  impressed  with 
the  idea  that  he  must  turn  dovm  the  stream  to 
find  his  home. 

The  rising  of  the  sun  the  next  morning  con- 
vinced him  that  his  sleeping  impressions  were 
correct  —  that  he  had  travelled  from  instead  of 
toward  Hatfield,  and  that  he  was  then  farther 
from  that  place  than  the  falls,  where  the  action 
took  place.  He  was  now  some  distance  up 
Green  river,  where  the  high  lands  closed  down 
to  the  stream.  Reversing  his  course,  he  at 
length  regained  the  level  interval  in  the  upper 


PERSONAL    ADVENTURKS    OF    WELLS.  31 

part  of  Greenfield,  and  soon  found  a  footpath 
which  led  him  to  the  trail  of  his  retreating  com- 
rades :  this  he  pursued  to  Deerfield  river,  which, 
with  much  difficulty,  he  forded  by  the  aid  of  his 
gun.  Ascending  the  bank  he  laid  himself  down 
to  rest,  and  being  overcome  with  fatigue  he  fell 
asleep  On  awaking  he  discovered  an  Indian 
making  directly  toward  him  in  a  canoe. 

Unable  to  flee,  and  finding  his  situation  des- 
perate. Wells  presented  his  gun  as  if  in  the  act 
of  firing,  although  it  was  wet  and  filled  with 
sand  and  gravel.  The  Indian,  leaving  his  own 
gun,  instantly  leaped  from  his  canoe  into  the 
water,  escaped  to  the  opposite  shore,  and  dis- 
appeared. Wells  now  concluded  that  he  should 
be  sacrificed  by  others,  who  he  knew  w^ere  but 
a  small  distance  down  the  river;  but  determining 
if  possible  to  elude  them,  he  gained  an  adjacent 
swamp,  and  secreted  himself  under  a  pile  of 
driftwood.  The  Indians  were  soon  heard  in 
search  of  him,  traversing  the  swamp,  and  pas- 
sing over  the  driftwood ;  but  by  lying  close,  the 
fugitive  fortunately  avoided  discovery,  and,  after 
they  had  given  up  the  search  and  left  the  place, 
he  continued  his  painful  march  through  Deer- 
field  meadows.  Hunger  now  began  to  prey  upon 
him,  and  looking  about  he  accidentally  discover- 


32  EXPEDITION    OF    CAPTAIN    TURNER. 

ed  the  skeleton  of  a  horse,  from  the  bones  of 
which  he  gathered  some  animal  matter,  which 
he  eagerly  devoured.  He  afterward  found  a  few 
bird's-eggs  and  some  decayed  beans,  which  in 
some  measure  allayed  the  cravings  of  nature, 
and  added  to  his  streno^th. 

Passing  the  ruins  of  Deerfield  at  dusk,  "Wells 
arrived  the  next  morning  at  Lathrop's  battle- 
ground at  Bloody  brook,  in  the  south  part  of 
Deerfield,  where  he  found  himself  so  exhausted 
that  he  concluded  he  must  give  up  farther  efforts, 
lie  down,  and  die.  But  after  resting  a  short  time, 
and  recollecting  that  he  was  within  about  eight 
miles  of  Hatfield,  his  resolution  returned,  and  he 
resumed  his  march  over  pine  woods,  then  smo- 
king with  a  recent  fire.  Here  he  found  himself 
in  great  distress  from  a  want  of  water  to  quench 
his  thirst,  and  almost  despaired  of  reaching  home. 
But  once  more  rousing  himself,  he  continued  his 
march,  and,  about  mid-day  on  Sunday,  reached 
Hatfield,  to  the  inexpressible  joy  of  his  friends, 
who  had  supposed  him  dead.  After  a  long  con- 
finement, Mr.  Wells's  wound  was  healed,  and 
he  lived  to  an  advanced  age,  a  worthy  member 
of  the  town. 

The  Rev.  Hope  Atherton,  minister  of  Hatfield, 
also   shared  in  the   expedition   under   Captaiu 


ADVENTURES  OF  ATHEKTON.         33 

Turner,  of  which  he  went  out  as  chaplain.  In 
the  confusion  of  the  retreat,  he  was  separated 
from  the  troops  and  lost  in  the  woods.  After 
wandering  at  random  until  morning  he  despaired 
of  finding  the  route  home,  and  came  to  the  reso- 
lution of  surrendering  himself  to  the  enemy. 
Approaching  a  party,  by  signs  he  offered  him- 
self as  a  prisoner.  Strange  as  it  may  appear, 
the  Indians  refused  to  receive  him.  When  he 
approached  and  called  to  them  they  fled  from 
his  presence.  None  offered  to  molest  him  or 
discovered  the  least  hostility.  Fear  seemed 
rather  to  predominate  in  their  minds,  and  Mr. 
Atherton  w^as  left  to  his  own  fate. 

In  this  strange  dilemma,  he  determined,  if 
possible,  to  find  the  river,  and  follow  it  to  Hat- 
field. This  he  effected,  and,  after  a  devious 
march  of  several  days,  during  which  he  endured 
hunger,  fatigue,  and  anxiety,  he  was  restored  to 
his  people.  This  singular  conduct  of  the  Indians 
was  attributed  to  some  of  their  religious  super- 
stitions. Probably,  Mr.  Atherton's  dress  in- 
dicated his  profession :  and,  having  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  sacredness  of  his  office,  these  super- 
stitious notions  led  them  to  consider  him  as  a 
superior  being. 
:2— 3 


34  THE    RIFLEMAN    OF    CHIPPEWA. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE     RIFLEMAN     OF     CHIPPEWA THE     INDIAN     AND 

THE     HOSTESS HOW     TO      ELUDE      TORTURE  — 

DUPLICITY    REWARDED. 

At  the  time  of  the  French  and  Indian  wars 
the  American  army  was  encamped  on  the  plains 
of  Chippewa.  Col.  St.  Clair,  the  commander 
was  a  bold  and  meritorious  officer;  but  there 
w^as  mixed  with  his  bravery  a  large  share  of 
rashness  or  indiscretion.  His  rashness  in  this 
case  consisted  in  encamping  upon  an  open  plain 
beside  a  thick  wood,  from  which  an  Indian  scout 
could  easily  pick  off  his  outposts  without  being 
exposed,  in  the  least,  to  the  fire  of  the  sentinel. 

Five  nights  had  passed,  and  every  night  he 
had  been  surprised  by  the  disappearance 
of  a  sentry,  who  stood  at  a  lonely  post  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  forest.  These  repeated  disaste;s 
had  struck  such  a  dread  into  the  breasts  of  the 
remaining  soldiers,  that  no  one  would  volunteer 


THE    KIFLEMAN    OF    CHIPPEWA.  35 

to  take  the  post,  and  the  commander,  knowing  it 
vvould  be  throwing  away  their  Uves  —  let  it 
stand  unoccupied,  for  a  night  or  two. 

At  length  a  rifleman  of  the  Virginia  corps 
volunteered  his  services.  He  was  told  the  dan- 
ger of  the  duty,  but  he  laughed  at  the  fears  of 
his  comrades,  saying  he  would  return  safe,  to 
drink  the  health  of  his  commander  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  guard  marched  up  soon  after,  and  he 
shouldered  his  rifle,  and  fell  in.  He  arrived  at 
his  bounds,  and,  bidding  his  fellow-sentinels 
"  good-night,"  assumed  the  duties  of  his  post. 

The  night  was  dark,  from  the  thick  clourls 
that  overspread  the  firmament.  No  star  shone 
on  the  sentinel  as  he  paced  his  lonely  path,  and 
naught  was  heard  but  the  mournful  hoot  of  the 
owl,  as  she  raised  her  nightly  w^ail  from  the 
withered  branch  of  the  venerable  oak.  At 
length,  a  low  rustling  among  the  bushes  on  the 
right,  caught  his  ear.  He  gazed  long  toward 
the  spot  whence  the  sound  seemed  to  proceed,  but 
saw  nothing  save  the  impenetrable  gloom  of  the 
thick  forest  which  surrounded  the  encampment. 
Then,  as  he  marched  onw^ard,  he  heard  the  joy- 
ful cry  of  "  all 's  well,"  after  which  he  seated 
himself  upon  a  stump,  and  fell  into  a  revery 
While  he  thus  sat,  a  savage  entered  the  open 


36  THE    RIFLEMAN    OF    CHIPPEWA. 

space  behind,  and  after  buckling  his  tunic,  with 
its  numerous  folds,  tight  around  his  body,  drew 
over  his  head  the  skin  of  a  wild  boar,  with  the 
natural  appendages  of  those  animals.  Thus 
accoutred,  he  vvalked  past  the  soldier,  who,  see- 
ing the  object  approach,  quickly  stood  upon  his 
guard.  But  a  well-known  grunt  eased  his  fears, 
and  he  suffered  it  to  pass,  it  being  too  dark  for 
any  one  to  discover  the  cheat.  The  beast,  as  it 
appeared  to  be,  quietly  sought  the  thicket  to  the 
left ;  it  was  nearly  out  of  sight,  when  through  a 
sudden  break  in  the  clouds,  the  moon  shone 
bright  upon  it.  The  soldier  then  perceived  the 
ornamented  moccasin  of  an  Indian,  and  quick  as 
thought,  prepared  to  fire.  But,  fearing  lest  he 
might  be  mistaken,  and  thus  needlessly  alarm 
the  camp  —  and  also  supposing,  if  he  were  right, 
that  other  savages  would  be  near  at  hand,  he 
refrained,  and  having  a  perfect  knowledge  of 
Indian  subtlety  and  craft,  quickly  took  off  his 
coat  and  cap,  and,  after  hanging  them  on  the 
stump  where  he  had  rechned,  secured  his 
rifle,  and  softly  groped  his  way  toward  the 
thicket.  He  had  barely  reached  it,  when  the 
whizzing  of  an  arrow  passed  his  head,  and  told 
him  of  the  danger  he  had  so  narrowly  escaped. 
Turning  his  eyes  toward  a  small  spot  of  clpar- 


THE    RIFLEMAN    OF    CHIPPEWA.  37 

ed  land  within  the  thicket,  he  perceived  a  dozen 
of  the  same  animals  sitting  on  their  hind  legs, 
instead  of  feeding  on  the  acorns,  which  at  this 
season  lay  plentifully  upon  the  surface  of  the 
leaves ;  and,  listening  attentively,  he  heard  them 
conversing  in  the  Iroquois  tongue.  The  sub- 
stance of  their  conversation  was,  that  if  the 
sentinel  should  not  discover  them,  the  next  eve- 
ning, as  soon  as  the  moon  should  afford  them 
sufficient  light  for  their  operations,  they  would 
make  an  attack  upon  the  American  camp.  They 
then  quitted  their  rendezvous,  and  soon  their  tall 
forms  were  lost  in  the  gloom  of  the  forest.  The 
soldier  now  returned  to  his  post,  and  found  the 
arrow  sunk  deep  in  the  stump,  it  having  passed 
through  the  breast  of  his  coat. 

He  directly  returned  to  the  encampment,  and 
desired  the  orderly  at  the  marquee  to  inform  the 
commander  of  his  wish  to  speak  with  him, 
having  information  of  importance  to  communi- 
cate. He  was  admitted,  and,  having  been  heard, 
the  colonel  bestowed  on  him  the  vacant  post  o* 
lieutenant  of  the  corps,  and  directed  him  to  be 
ready,  with  a  picket-guard,  to  march  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening  to  the  spot  he  had  occu- 
pied the  night  before,  where  he  was  to  place 
his  hat  and  coat  upon  the  stump,  and  then  He  in 


38  THE   RIFLEMAN   OF   CHIPPEWA 

ambush  for  the  intruders.  Accordingly  the  party 
proceeded,  and  obeyed  the  colonel's  orders.  The 
moon  rose,  but  shone  dimly  through  the  thick 
branches  of  the  forest. 

While  the  new  lieutenant  was  waiting  the  re- 
sult of  his  manoeuvre,  an  arrow  w^hizzed  from 
the  same  quarter  as  before.  The  mock  soldier 
fell  on  his  face.  '  A  dozen  subdued  voices  sounded 
from  within  the  thicket,  which  were  soon  fol- 
lowed by  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  Indians 
themselves.  They  barely  reached  the  stump, 
when  our  hero  gave  the  order  to  fire,  and  the 
whole  band  were  stretched  dead  upon  the  plain. 
After  stripping  them  of  their  arms  and  trappings, 
the  Americans  returned  to  the  camp. 

Twelve  chiefs  fell  at  the  destructive  fire  of  the 
white  men,  and  their  fall  was,  undoubtedly,  one 
great  cause  of  the  French  and  Indian  wars  with 
the  English.  The  fortunate  rifleman,  who  had 
originated  and  conducted  the  ambuscade,  returned 
from  the  war,  at  its  termination,  with  a  compe- 
tency. He  was  not  again  heard  of,  until  the 
parent-country  raised  her  arm  against  the  infant 
colonies.  Then  was  seen,  at  the  head  of  a  band 
of  Virginia  riflemen  our  hero  as  the  brave  and 
gallant  Colonel  Moigan. 

The  Indians  of  North  America  manifest  in 


THE    INDIAN    AND    THE    HOSTESS.  39 

many  of  their  remarks  a  singular  talent  for  satire 
and  sarcasm.  Their  sense  of  the  ridiculous  is 
acute,  and  their  retorts  are  often  bitter  and  keen 
as  well  as  witty.  Soon  after  Litchfield  began 
to  be  settled  by  the  English,  an  unknown  Indian 
came  into  an  inn  at  dusk,  and  requested  the  host- 
ess to  furnish  him  with  food  and  drink,  stating  that 
he  had  had  no  success  in  hunting,  and  could  not 
pay  till  he  had  better  fortune.  The  woman  re- 
fused, and  began  to  scold  him,  calling  him  a  lazy, 
drunken,  good-for-nothing  fellow.  A  man  who 
sat  by,  noticed  the  poor  savage  as  he  turned 
away  from  the  unfeeling  shrew,  and  generously 
ordered  her  to  furnish  him  with  a  good  supper, 
for  which  he  himself  would  pay. 

The  Indian,  having  finished  his  meal,  thanked 
his  benefactor  again  and  again,  assuring  him  he 
should  never  forget  his  kindness.  He  added  that 
he  had  a  short  story  to  tell,  should  the  woman 
be  wiUing  to  hear  him.  The  hostess,  now 
made  good-natured  by  the  money,  readily  con- 
sented. The  Indian,  addressing  his  benefactor, 
said, "  I  suppose  you  read  your  bible  ?"  The  man 
assented. 

"  Well,"  rejoined  the  Indian,  "  the  Bible  says, 
God  make  de  world,  and  den  he  took  him,  and 
looked  on  him,  and  say,  '  all  very  good.'     Den 


40  THE    INDIAN    AND   THE    HOSTESS. 

he  made  light ;  and  took  him  and  looked  on  him, 
and  say,  '  all  very  good.'  Den  he  made  land 
and  water,  sun  and  moon,  grass  and  trees ;  and 
he  took  him  and  looked  on  him,  and  say,  '  all 
very  good.'  Den  he  made  beasts,  and  birds,  and 
fishes  j  and  he  took  him  and  looked  on  him,  and 
say,  '  all  very  good.'  Den  he  made  man ;  and 
took  him,  and  looked  on  him,  and  say,  '  all  very 
good.'  Den  he  made  woman ;  and  took  him 
and  looked  on  him,  and,  he  no  say  any  such 
thing  morey 

Many  years  after  this  event,  the  Indian's  bene- 
factor was  taken  prisoner  by  an  Indian  scout, 
and  carried  into  Canada.  He  was  saved  from 
death  by  one  of  the  tribe,  who  asked  leave  to 
adopt  him  in  place  of  his  son,  who  had  fallen  in 
battle.  Through  the  winter  he  encountered  the 
customary  effects  of  savage  hospitality.  The  fol- 
lowing summer  as  he  was  at  work  in  the  forest 
alone,  an  unknown  Indian  came  to  him  and  ap- 
pointed a  meeting  at  a  certain  place  on  a  fixed 
day. 

The  prisoner  consented  ;  but  afterward,  fear- 
ing that  mischief  might  be  intended,  neglected 
the  engagement.  The  Indian  again  sought  him, 
reproved  him  for  his  want  of  confidence,  and  as- 
sured hmi  the  meeting  would  be  for  his  benefit. 


HOW    TO    ELUDE    TORTURE.  41 

Encouraged  by  his  apparent  friendship,  the  vihiie 
man  followed  his  directions.  He  found  the  In- 
dian provided  with  muskets  and  knapsacks,  and 
was  ordered  to  arm  himself  and  follow  him. 
Their  course  lay  toward  the  south;  and,  day 
after  day,  the  white  man  followed  without  being 
able  to  conjecture  the  motives  of  his  guide. 

After  a  tedious  journey  he  arrived  at  the  top  of 
an  eminence  commanding  a  view  of  a  countiy 
somewhat  cultivated  and  populous.  "  Do  you 
know  that  country  ?"  asked  the  Indian,  with  a 
significant  smile.  "  Oh  yes ;  it  is  Litchfield," 
replied  the  white  man,  as  he  cordially  pressed 
the  hand  of  his  companion.  "  Many  years  ago, 
you  gave  weary  Indian  supper  there,"  said  the 
latter.  "  He  promise  to  pay  you,  and  he  pay 
you  now.     Go  home  and  be  happy." 

Several  soldiers  of  Montgomery's  Highland 
regiment  were  taken  prisoners  by  the  Indi- 
ans. One  of  them  named  Allan  Macpherson 
witnessed  the  miserable  fate  of  his  fellows,  who 
had  been  tortured  to  death  by  the  savages,  and 
seeing  preparations  making  to  subject  him  to  the 
same  cruel  sufferings,  he  made  signs  that  he  had 
something  of  importance  to  communicate. 

An  interpreter  was  brought.  Macpherson 
told  them,  that,  provided  his  life  was  spared  for 

I.— r 


42  HOW    TO    ELUDE    TORTURE. 

a  few  minutes,  he  would  communicate  the  secret 
of  an  extraordinary  medicine,  which,  if  appKed 
to  the  skin,  would  cause  it  to  resist  the  strongest 
blow  of  a  tomahawk  or  sword  ;  and  that  if  they 
would  allow  him  to  go  to  the  woods  with  a 
guard  to  collect  the  plants,  proper  for  this  medi- 
cine, he  would  prepare  it  and  allow  the  experi- 
ment to  be  tried  on  his  own  neck,  by  the  strongest 
and  most  expert  warrior  among  them. 

The  story  was  readily  credited  by  the  super- 
stitious savages.  The  request  was  complied  with 
The  highlander  returned  from  the  woods  with  a 
parcel  of  plants.  Having  boiled  them  he  rubbed 
his  neck  with  the  juice,  laid  his  head  upon  a 
block  of  wood,  and  desired  that  the  strongest 
man  among  them  would  strike  a  hard  blow  on 
his  neck  with  a  tomahawk,  when  he  would  find 
that  he  could  not  make  the  slightest  impression 
A  stout  Indian  accordingly  came  forward,  took 
his  tomahawk,  and  inflicted  a  blow  with  all  his 
might.     Off  flew  the  head. 

The  savages  stood  amazed  and  angry  at  hav- 
ing been  outwitted.  They  were  ashamed  of  their 
own  credulity.  The  prisoner  was,  by  his  inge- 
nuity and  presence  of  mind,  relieved  from  the 
agoniang  and  protracted  tortures,  which  his  cap- 
tors had  intended  to  inflict  upon  him. 


DUPLICITS"   REWARDED.  43 

Early  in  the  war  of  the  American  revolution, 
a  sergeant,  who  was  travelling  through  the  woods 
of  New  Hampshire,  on  his  way  to  join  the  Ameri- 
can army,  met  with  a  singular  adventure,  which 
resulted  much  to  the  credit  of  his  sagacity. 

He  had  twelve  men  with  him.  Their  route  was 
far  from  any  settlement,  and  they  were  obliged 
every  night  to  encamp  in  the  woods.  The  ser- 
geant had  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  Indians,  and 
was  well  acquainted  with  their  character  and 
customs.  Early  one  afternoon,  as  he  was  pro- 
ceeding with  his  party  over  bogs,  swamps,  and 
brooks,  under  towering  maple-trees,  a  body  of 
Indians,  exceeding  his  men  in  number,  rushed 
out  upon  a  hill  in  front  of  them. 

They  appeared  to  be  pleased  at  meeting  with 
the  sergeant  and  his  party.  They  considered 
them,  they  said,  as  their  best  friends.  As  for 
themselves,  they  had  taken  up  the  hatchet  for 
the  Americans,  and  would  scalp  and  strip  those 
rascally  Enghsh  for  them,  like  so  many  wildcats. 
"  How  do  you  do,  pro  V  (meaning  brother)  said 
one.  "How  do  you  do,  pro?"  said  another; 
and  so  they  went  about,  shaking  hands  with  the 
sergeant  and  his  twelve  men. 

They  went  off  at  last,  and  the  sergeant,  hav- 
ing marched  onward  a  mile  or  two,  halted  his 


44  DUPLICITY    REWARDED. 

men,  and  addressed  them.  —  "  My  brave  fellows/' 
said  he,  "  we  must  use  all  possible  caution,  or 
before  morning  we  shall  all  of  us  be  dead  men. 
You  are  amazed,  but  depend  upon  me,  these  In- 
dians have  tried  to  put  our  suspicion  to  sleep ; 
you  will  see  more  of  them  by-and-by." 

It  was  concluded,  finally,  to  adopt  the  follow- 
ing scheme  for  defence ;  they  encamped  for  the 
night  near  a  stream  of  water,  which  protected 
them  from  behind.  A  large  oak  was  felled,  and 
a  brilliant  fire  kindled.  Every  man  cut  a  log 
of  wood  about  the  size  of  his  body,  rolled  it 
nicely  up  in  his  blanket,  placed  his  hat  on  the 
end  of  it,  and  laid  it  before  the  fire,  that  the 
enemy  might  take  it  for  a  man. 

Thirteen  logs  w^ere  fitted  out  in  this  way,  rep- 
resenting the  sergeant  and  his  twelve  men. 
They  then  placed  themselves,  with  loaded  guns, 
behind  the  fallen  tree.  By  this  time  it  was  dark, 
but  the  fire  was  kept  burning  till  midnight.  The 
sergeant  knew  that  if  the  savages  ever  came, 
they  would  come  now. 

A  tall  Indian  was  at  length  seen  through  the 
glimmering  fire,  which  was  getting  low.  He 
moved  cautiously  toward  them,  skulking,  as  an 
Indian  always  does.  He  seemed  to  suspect  at 
first,  that  a  guard  might  be  watching,  but  seemg 


DUPLiCITY    REWARDED.  45 

none,  he  came  forward  more  boldly,  rested  on 
his  toes,  and  was  seen  to  move  h'S  finger,  as  he 
counted  the  thirteen  men,  sleeping,  as  he  sup- 
posed, by  the  fire.  He  counted  them  again,  and 
retired;  another  came  up,  and  did  the  same. 
Then  the  whole  party,  sixteen  m  number,  came 
up,  and  glared  silently  at  the  logs,  till  they 
seemed  to  be  satisfied  that  the  party  of  white 
men  were  fast  asleep.  Thereupon  they  took  aim, 
fired  their  whole  number  of  guns  upon  the  logs, 
yelled  the  horrid  warwhoop,  and  rushed  forward 
to  murder  and  scalp  theii'  supposed  victims.  The 
sergeant  and  his  men  were  ready  for  them. 
They  fired,  and  not  one  of  the  Indians  was  lef 
to  tell  the  story  of  that  night.  The  sergeant 
reached  the  army  in  safety,  and  was  much  com 
mended  for  his  gallantry  and  prudence. 


46  ESCAPE    OF   TWO   DISTINGUISHEn 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ESCAPE  OF  TWO  DISTINGUISHED  AMERICAN   PRISONERS 
FROM    THE    BRITISH. 

After  the  failure  of  the  expedition  against 
the  British  garrison  at  Penobscot,  General  Peleg 
Wadsworth  was  appointed  in  the  spring  of  1830, 
to  the  command  of  a  party  of  state  troops  in 
Camden,  in  the  district  of  Maine. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  period  for  which  the 
troops  were  engaged  in  February  following. 
General  Wadsworth  dismissed  his  troops,  re- 
taining six  soldiers  only  as  his  guard,  and  began 
to  make  preparations  to  depart  from  the  place. 
A  neighboring  inhabitant  communicated  the 
intelligence  of  his  situation  to  the  British  com- 
mander at  Penobscot,  and  a  party  of  twenty 
soldiers,  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Stockton,  was 
sent  to  make  him  a  prisoner.  They  embarked 
in  a  small  schooner,  and  landing  within  four 
miles  of  the  general's  quarters,  they  were  con- 


AMERICAN  PRISONERS  FROM  THE  BRITISH.       47 

cealed  at  the  house  of  one  Snow,  a  methodist 
preacher,  professedly  a  friend  to  the  Americans, 
but  in  reahty  a  traitor.  Here  they  remained  till 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  made  their 
arrangements  for  the  attack  upon  the  general's 
quarters. 

Issuing  from  their  place  of  concealment,  the 
assailing  party  rushed  suddenly  on  the  sentinel, 
who  gave  the  alarm.  One  of  his  comrades  in- 
stantly opened  the  door  of  the  kitchen,  but  the 
enemy  were  so  near  as  to  enter  with  the  sentinel. 
The  lady  of  the  general,  and  her  friend,  Miss 
Fenno  of  Boston,  were  in  the  house  at  the  time, 
and  Mrs.  Wadsworth  escaped  from  the  room  of 
her  husband  into  that  of  Miss  Fenno.  The 
assailants  soon  became  masters  of  the  whole 
house,  except  the  room  where  the  general  was, 
which  was  strongly  barred ;  and  they  kept  up  a 
constant  fire  of  musketry  into  the  windows  and 
doors,  except  into  those  of  the  ladies'  rooms. 

General  Wadsworth  was  provided  with  a  pair 
of  pistols,  a  blunderbuss,  and  a  fusee,  which  he 
employed  with  great  dexterity,  being  determined 
to  defend  himself  to  the  last.  With  his  pistols, 
which  he  discharged  several  times,  he  defended 
the  windows  of  his  room  and  a  door  which  open- 
ed into  the  kitchen.  His  blunderbuss  he  snapped 


4S  ESCAPE   OF   TWO   DISTINGUISHED 

several  times,  but  unfortunately  it  missed  hre. 
He  then  seized  his  fusee,  which  he  discharged 
on  some  who  were  breaking  through  one  of  the 
windows,  and  obliged  them  to  flee.  He  next 
defended  himself  with  his  bayonet,  till  he  re- 
ceived a  ball  through  his  left  arm,  when  he 
surrendered,  and  the  contest  terminated.  The 
firing,  however,  did  not  cease  from  the  kitchen 
till  the  general  unbarred  the  door,  when  the 
soldiers  rushed  into  the  room,  and  one  of  them, 
who  had  been  badly  wounded,  pointing  a  mus- 
ket at  his  breast,  exclaimed  with  an  oath,  "You 
have  taken  my  life,  and  I  will  take  yours."  Bui 
Lieutenant  Stockton  turned  the  musket  aside, 
and  saved  his  life. 

The  commanding  officer  of  the  British  now- 
applauded  the  general  for  his  admirable  defence, 
and  assisted  in  putting  on  his  clothes,  saying, 
"You  see  we  are  in  a  critical  situation;  you 
must  excuse  haste."  Mrs.  Wadsworth  threw  a 
blanket  over  him,  and  Miss  Fenno  applied  a 
handkerchief  closely  round  his  wounded  arm. 
In  this  condition,  though  much  exhausted,  he, 
with  a  wounded  American  soldier,  was  directed 
to  march  on  foot,  while  two  British  soldiers,  also 
wounded,  were  mounted  on  a  horse  taken  from 
the  general's  barn       They  deoarted  in  great 


AMERICAN  PRISONERS  FROM  THE  BRITISH.       49 

haste.  When  they  had  proceeded  about  a  mile, 
they  met,  at  a  small  house,  a  number  of  people, 
who  inquired  if  they  had  taken  General  Wads- 
worth.  They  said  no,  and  added  that  they  must 
leave  a  wounded  man  under  their  care,  and  if 
they  paid  prop5r  attention  to  him,  they  should 
be  compensated,  but  if  not,  their  house  should 
be  burnt  down.  The  man,  however,  appeared 
to  be  dying.  General  W^adsworth  was  now 
mounted  on  the  horse  behind  the  other  wounded 
soldier,  and  was  warned  that  his  safety  depended 
on  his  silence. 

Having  crossed  over  a  frozen  mill-pond  about 
a  mile  in  length,  they  were  met  by  some  of  their 
party,  who  had  been  left  behind.  Here  they 
found  the  British  privateer  which  brought  the 
party  from  the  fort.  The  captain  of  the  vessel, 
on  being  told  that  he  must  return  there  with  the 
prisoner  and  the  party,  and  seeing  some  of  his 
men  wounded,  became  outrageous,  and  damned 
the  general  for  a  rebel,  demanding  how  he  dared 
to  fire  on  the  king's  troops,  and  ordering  him  to 
help  launch  the  boat  or  he  would  put  his  hanger 
through  his  body.  The  general  replied  that  he 
was  a  prisoner,  and  badly  wounded,  and  that  he 
could  not  ass  st  in  launching  the  boat.  Lieuten- 
ant Stockton,  on  hearing  of  this  abusive  treat- 
12—4 


50  ESCAPE    OF    TWO    DISTINGUISHED 

ment,  in  a  manner  honorable  to  himself,  told  the 
captain  that  the  prisoner  was  a  gentleman ;  that 
he  had  made  a  brave  defence,  and  was  to  be 
treated  respectfully ;  adding  that  the  captain's 
conduct  should  be  represented  to  General  Camp- 
bell. After  this  the  captain  treated  the  prisoner 
wqth  great  civility,  and  afforded  him  every  com- 
fort in  his  power. 

The  ladies  of  General  Wadsworth's  family 
had  been  left  in  the  house,  not  a  window^  of 
which  had  escaped  destruction.  The  doors  were 
broken  down,  and  two  of  the  rooms  "were  in 
flames  —  the  floors  covered  with  blood,  while 
on  one  of  them  lay  a  brave  old  soldier  danger- 
ously wounded,  begging  for  death  to  release  him 
from  his  misery.  The  anxiety  and  distress  of 
Mrs.  Wadsworth  were  inexpressible;  and  that 
of  the  general  was  greatly  increased  by  the 
uncertainty  in  his  mind  respecting  the  fate  of  his 
little  son,  only  five  years  old,  who  had  been 
exposed  to  every  danger  by  the  firing  into  the 
house.  The  father  afterward  had  the  happiness 
to  hear  of  the  lad's  safety. 

The  party  having  arrived  at  the  British  post, 
the  capture  of  General  Wadsworth  was  soon  an- 
nounced, and  the  shore  was  thronged  with  spec- 
tators to  see  the  man,  who,  through  the  prece- 


AMERICAN    PRISONERS    FROM    THE    BRITISH.       5^ 

ding  year,  had  disappointed  all  the  designs  of  the 
British  in  that  quarter.  Loud  shouts  were  heard 
from  the  rabble,  but  when  the  prisoner  reached 
the  fort,  and  was  conducted  into  the  officers' 
guard-room,  he  was  treated  with  politeness. 
General  Campbell,  the  commandant  of  the  Brit- 
ish garrison,  sent  his  compliments  to  him  and  a 
surgeon  to  dress  his  wounds,  assuring  him  that  his 
situation  should  be  made  comfortable.  The  next 
morning,  General  Campbell  invited  him  to  break- 
fast, and  at  table  paid  him  many  compliments  on 
the  defence  he  had  made,  observing,  however, 
that  he  had  exposed  himself  in  a  degree  not  per- 
fectly justifiable.  General  Wadsworth  replied, 
that,  from  the  manner  of  the  attack,  he  had  no 
reason  to  suspect  any  design  of  taking  him  alive, 
and  that  he  intended  therefore  to  sell  his  life  as 
dearly  as  possible. 

"  But,  sir,"  says  General  Campbell,  "  I  under- 
stand that  the  captain  of  the  privateer  treated 
you  very  ill ;  I  shall  see  that  matter  set  right." 

He  then  informed  the  prisoner,  that  a  room  in 
the  officers'  barracks  within  the  fort  was  pre- 
pared for  him,  and  that  he  should  send  his  orderly 
sergeant  daily  to  attend  him  to  breakfast  and 
dinner  at  his  table.  Having  retired  to  his  soli' 
tary  apartment,  and  while  his  spirits  were  ex- 


52  ESCAPE    OF    TWO   DISTINGUISHED 

tremely  depressed  by  a  recollection  of  the  past, 
and  by  his  present  situation,  he  received  from 
General  Campbell  several  books  of  amusement, 
and  soon  afterward  a  visit — the  general  endeav- 
oring to  cheer  the  spirits  of  his  prisoner  by  con- 
versation. Not  long  after,  the  officers  of  the 
party  called,  and  among  others  the  redoubtable 
captain  of  the  privateer,  who  came  to  ask  pardon 
for  what  had  fallen  from  him  when  in  a  passion, 
protesting,  that  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to  treat 
a  gentleman  prisoner  ill,  but  that  the  unexpected 
disappointment  of  his  cruise  had  thrown  him  off 
his  guard,  and  he  hoped  that  this  would  be 
deemed  a  sufficient  apology.  This  General 
Wadsworth  accepted.  At  the  hour  of  dining 
he  was  invited  to  the  table  of  the  commandant, 
where  he  met  all  the  principal  officers  of  the 
garrison,  and  received  from  them  particular  at- 
tention and  politeness. 

General  Wadsworth  soon  made  application  to 
the  commandant  for  a  flag  of  truce,  by  which 
means  he  could  transmit  a  letter  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Massachusetts,  and  another  to  Mrs. 
Wadsworth.  This  was  granted  on  condition 
that  the  letter  to  the  governor  should  be  inspected. 
The  flag  was  intrusted  to  Lieutenant  Stockton, 
and  on  his  return,  the  general  was  relieved  from 


AMERICAN    PRISONERS  FROM    THE    BRITISH.       53 

all  anxiety  respecting  his  wife  and  family. 
General  Campbell  and  the  officers  of  the  garri- 
son, continued  their  civilities  for  some  time,  and 
endeavored,  by  books  and  personal  visits,  to 
render  his  situation  as  agreeable  as  circumstances 
would  permit.  At  the  end  of  five  weeks,  his 
wound  being  nearly  healed,  he  requested  of 
General  Campbell,  the  customary  privilege  of  a 
parole,  and  was  informed  in  reply,  that  his  case 
had  been  reported  to  the  commanding  officer,  at 
New  York,  and  that  no  alteration  could  be  made 
in  his  condition,  till  orders  were  received  from 
that  quarter. 

In  about  two  months,  Mrs.  Wadsworth  and 
Miss  Fenno  arrived,  and  General  Campbell  and 
his  officers  contributed  all  in  their  power  to 
render  their  visit  pleasant  to  all  parties.  About 
the  same  time,  orders  were  received  from  the 
commanding  general  at  New  York,  which  were 
concealed  from  General  Wadsworth;  but  he 
finally  learned  that  he  was  not  to  be  liberated 
on  his  parole  nor  exchanged,  but  was  to  be  sent 
to  England  as  a  rebel  of  too  much  consequence 
to  be  at  liberty. 

Not  long  afterward.  Major  Benjamin  Burton, 
a  brave  and  worthy  man,  who  had  served  under 
General  Wadsworth  the  preceding  summer,  was 


64  ESCAPE   OF   TWO   DISTINGUISHED 

taken  and  brought  into  the  fort  and  lodged  in 
the  same  room  with  Wadsworth.  He  had  been 
informed,  that  both  himself  and  the  general  were 
to  be  sent,  immediately  after  the  return  of  a 
privateer  then  out  on  a  cruise,  either  to  New 
York  or  Halifax,  and  thence  to  England.  The 
prisoners  immediately  resolved  to  make  a  des 
perate  attempt  to  effect  their  escape. 

They  were  confined  in  a  grated  room  in  the 
officers'  barracks  within  the  fort.  The  walls  of 
this  fortress,  exclusively  of  the  depth  of  the  ditch 
surrounding  it,  were  twenty  feet  high,  with 
fraising  on  the  top,  and  chevaux-de-frise  at 
the  bottom.  Two  sentinels  were  always  in  the 
entry,  and  their  door,  the  upper  part  of  which 
was  of  glass,  might  be  opened  by  these  watch- 
men whenever  they  thought  proper,  and  was 
actually  opened  at  seasons  when  it  was  particu- 
larly dark  and  silent.  At  the  exterior  doors  of 
the  entries,  sentinels  were  also  stationed,  as  were 
others  in  the  body  of  the  fort,  and  at  the  quarters 
of  General  Campbell.  At  the  guardhouse,  a 
strong  guard  was  daily  mounted.  Several 
sentinels  were  stationed  on  the  walls  of  the  fort, 
and  a  complete  line  occupied  them  by  night. 
Without  the  ditch,  glacis  and  abattis,  another 
complete  file  of  soldiers  also  patrolled  through 


AMERICAN  PRISONERS  FROM  THE  BRITISH.       55 

the  night.  The  gate  of  the  fort  was  shut  at  sun- 
set, and  a  picket-guard  was  placed  on  or  near 
the  isthmus  leading  from  the  fort  to  the  main 
land. 

The  room  in  which  the  prisoners  were  con* 
fined  was  railed  with  boards.  One  of  these  they 
determined  to  cut  off,  so  as  to  make  a  hole  large 
enough  to  pass  through,  and  then  to  creep  along 
till  they  should  come  to  the  next  or  middle  entry ; 
and  then  lower  themselves  down  into  this  entry 
by  a  blanket.  If  they  should  not  be  discovered, 
the  passage  to  the  walls  of  the  fort  was  easy. 
In  the  evening,  after  the  sentinels  had  seen  the 
prisoners  retire  to  bed,  General  Wadsworth  got 
up,  and  standing;  in  a  chair,  attempted  to  cut 
with  his  knife  the  intended  opening,  but  soon 
found  the  operation  impracticable.  The  next 
day  by  giving  a  soldier  a  dollar  they  procured  a 
gimlet.  With  this  imstrument  they  proceeded 
cautiously  and  as  silently  as  possible  to  perforate 
the  board,  and,  in  order  to  conceal  every  sign  of 
their  labors  from  their  servants  and  from  the 
officers  their  visiters,  they  carefully  covered  the 
gimlet  holes  with  chewed  bread.  At  the  end  of 
three  weeks  their  labors  were  so  far  completed, 
that  it  only  remained  to  cut  with  a  knife  the 
pirts  which  were  left  to  hold  the  piece  in  its 


56  ESCAPE   OF   TWO   DISTINGUISHED 

place  When  their  preparations  were  finished, 
they  learned  that  the  privateer  in  which  they 
were  to  embark  was  daily  expected. 

In  the  evening  of  the  eighteenth  of  June,  a  very 
severe  storm  of  rain,  with  great  darkness  and 
almost  incessant  lightning,  came  on.  This  the 
prisoners  considered  as  the  propitious  moment. 
Having  extinguished  their  lights,  they  began  to 
cut  the  corners  of  the  board,  and  in  less  than  an 
hour  the  intended  opening  was  effected.  The 
noise  produced  by  the^  operation  was  drowned 
by  the  rain  falling  on  the  roof.  Major  Burton 
first  ascended  to  the  ceiling,  and  pressed  himself 
through  the  opening.  General  Wadsworth  next, 
having  put  the  corner  of  his  blanket  through  the 
hole  and  made  it  fast  by  a  strong  wooden 
skewer,  attempted  to  make  his  way  through, 
standing  on  a  chair  below,  but  it  was  with  ex- 
treme difficulty  that  he  at  length  effected  it,  and 
reached  the  middle  entry  From  this  he  passed 
through  the  door,  which  he  found  open,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  wall  of  the  fort  He  had 
to  encounter  the  greatest  difficulty  before  he 
could  ascend  to  the  top.  He  had  now  to  creep 
along  between  the  sentry-boxes  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  the  relief  was  shifting  sentinels,  but 
the  falling  of  heavv  rain  kept  the  sentinels  with* 


AMERICAN    PRISONERS   FROM    THE    BRITISH.       57 

in  their  boxes,  and  favored  his  escape.  Having 
now  fastened  his  blanket  round  a  picket  at  the 
top,  he  let  himself  down  through  the  chevaux- 
de-frise  to  the  ground ;  and,  in  a  manner  astonish- 
ing to  himself,  made  his  way  into  the  open  field. 
Here  he  was  obliged  to  grope  his  path  among 
rocks,  stumps,  and  brush,  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  till  he  reached  the  cove.  Happily  the 
tide  had  ebbed,  and  he  was  enabled  to  cross  the 
water,  which  was  about  a  mile  in  breadth  and 
not  more  than  three  feet  deep. 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  General 
Wadsworth  found  himself  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  fort,  and  he  proceeded  through  a  thick  wood 
and  brush  to  the  Penobscot  river.  After  passing 
some  distance  along  the  shore,  being  seven  miles 
from  the  fort,  he  saw,  to  his  unspeakable  joy,  his 
friend  Burton,  advancing  toward  him.  Major 
Burton  had  been  obliged  to  encounter  in  his 
course  equal  difficulties  with  his  companion ; 
and  such  were  the  perils  and  obstructions  they 
surmounted,  that  their  escape  may  be  considered 
almost  miraculous.  It  was  now  necessary  that 
they  should  cross  the  Penobscot  river.  Very 
fortunately  they  discovered  a  canoe  with  oars,  on 
the  shore  suited  to  their  purpose.  While  on  the 
xirev  they  saw  to  their  dismay  a  barge  with  a 


58         ESCAPE    OF    TWO    AMERICAN    PRISONERS. 

party  of  British  from  the  fort  in  pursuit  of  them, 
but  by  taking  an  oblique  course,  and  plying  their 
oars  with  all  their  strength,  they  happily  eluded 
the  eyes  of  their  pursuers,  and  arrived  in  safety 
on  the  western  shore. 

After  having  wandered  in  the  wilderness  for 
several  days  and  nights,  exposed  to  extreme 
fatigue  and  cold,  and  with  no  other  food  than 
a  little  dry  bread  and  meat,  which  they  brought 
in  their  pockets  from  the  fort,  they  reached  the 
settlements  on  the  river  St.  George,  and  no  far- 
ther difficulties  attended  their  return  to  their 
famihes. 


ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEANT  CHAMPE.     59 


CHAPTER  V. 

ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEANT  CHAMPE  IN  HIS  ATTEMPT 
TO  CAPTURE  THE  TRAITOR  ARNOLD. 

The  treason  of  General  Arnold,  the  capture  of 
Andre,  and  the  intelligence  received  by  Wash- 
ington through  his  confidential  agents  in  New 
York,  that  many  of  his  officers,  and  especially 
a  major-general,  whose  name  was  given,  were 
connected  with  Arnold,  could  not  fail  to  arouse 
the  anxiety  and  vigilance  of  the  commander-in- 
chief.  The  moment  he  reached  the  army,  then 
under  the  orders  of  Major-General  Greene,  en- 
camped in  the  vicinity  of  Tappan,  he  sent  for 
Major  Lee,  who  was  posted  with  the  light  troops 
some  distance  in  front. 

Lee  repaired  to  headquarters,  and  found 
Washington  in  his  marquee  alone,  busily  engaged 
in  writing.  Lee  was  requested  to  take  a  seat ; 
and  a  bundle  of  papers,  lying  on  the  table,  was 
^ven  to  him  for  perusal.     The  purport  of  these 


60    ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEANT  CHAMPE 

tended  to  show  that  Arnold  was  not  alone 
in  his  base  conspiracy,  but  that  a  major-general, 
whose  name  was  not  concealed,  was  also  impli- 
cated. This  officer  had  enjoyed,  without  inter- 
ruption, the  confidence  of  the  commander-in- 
chief,  nor  did  there  exist  a  single  reason  in  sup- 
port of  the  accusation.  It  altogether  rested  on 
the  intelligence  derived  from  the  papers  before 
him. 

Major  Lee  was  naturally  shocked  at  these 
suspicions,  and  suggested  that  they  were  an 
invention  of  the  enemy.  Washington  admitted 
the  plausibility  of  the  suggestion,  but  remarked 
that  he  had  the  same  confidence  in  Arnold  a  few 
days  before,  which  he  now  placed  in  the  persons 
accused. 

After  some  further  conversation,  Washington 
disclosed  a  project,  which  he  had  maturely 
revolved  in  his  own  mind.  "  I  have  sent  for 
you,"  he  remarked  to  Lee,  "  to  learn  if  you  have 
in  your  corps  any  individual  capable  of  under- 
aking  a  delicate  and  hazardous  enterprise. 
Whoever  comes  forward  on  this  occasion  will 
lay  me  under  great  obligations  personally;  and, 
in  behalf  of  the  United  States,  I  will  reward  him 
amply.  No  time  is  to  be  lost.  He  must  proceed 
if  possible  this  night.     My  object  is  to  probe  to 


LN    HIS   ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         61 

the  bottom  the  afflicting  suspicions  suggested  by 
the  papers  you  have  just  read — to  seize  Arnold, 
and  by  getting  him,  to  save  Andre.  While  my 
emissary  is  engaged  in  preparing  means  for  the 
seizure  of  Arnold,  the  agency  of  others  can  be 
traced ;  and  the  timely  delivery  of  Arnold  to  me, 
will  possibly  put  it  into  my  power  to  restore  the 
amiable  and  unfortunate  Andre  to  his  friends. 
My  instructions  are  ready,  in  which  you  will 
find  express  orders,  that  Arnold  is  not  to  be  hurt; 
but  that  he  be  permitted  to  escape,  if  it  can  be 
prevented  only  by  killing  him,  as  his  public 
punishment  is  the  only  object  in  view.  This 
you  cannot  too  forcibly  press  on  the  person  who 
may  engage  in  the  enterprise ;  and  this  fail  not 
to  do.  With  my  instructions,  are  two  letters  to 
be  delivered  as  ordered,  and  here  are  some 
gu'neas  to  defray  expenses." 

Lee  replied,  that,  as  the  first  step  to  the  enter- 
prise was  pretended  desertion,  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  find  a  commissioned  officer,  who  would 
undertake  it.  He  knew,  however,  a  sergeant- 
major  of  the  cavalry  named  Champe,  who  was 
in  all  respects  qualified  for  the  delicate  and 
adventurous  project.  Champe  was  a  native  of 
Loudon  county  in  Virginia,  about  twenty  years 
of  age.     He  had  enlisted  in  1776 ;  was  rather 


62     ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEANT  CHAMPE 

above  the  common  size,  full  of  bone  and  muscle. 
With  a  saturnine  countenance,  grave,  thoughtful, 
and  taciturn;  of  tried  courage  and  inflexible 
perseverance. 

Washington  was  satisfied  with  this  description, 
and  exclaimed  that  Champe  was  the  very  man 
for  the  enterprise.  Lee  promised  to  persuade 
him  to  undertake  it,  and,  taking  leave  of  the 
general,  returned  to  the  camp  of  the  light  corps, 
which  he  reached  about  eight  o'clock  at  night. 
Sending  instantly  for  the  serje ant-major,  he  in- 
formed him  of  the  project  of  the  commander-in- 
chief;  and  urged  upon  him,  that,  by  succeeding 
in  the  capture  and  safe  delivery  of  Arnold,  he 
would  not  only  gratify  his  general  in  the  most 
acceptable  manner,  but  would  be  hailed  as  the 
avenger  of  the  reputation  of  the  army,  stained 
by  a  foul  and  wicked  perfidy ;  and,  what  could 
not  but  be  highly  pleasing,  he  would  be  the 
instrument  of  saving  the  life  of  Major  Andre. 

Champe  listened  with  attention  to  the  plan 
unfolded  by  Lee,  and  replied  that  it  met  his  ap 
probation.  Even  its  partial  success  was  likely 
to  lead  to  great  good,  as  it  would  give  relief  to 
Washington's  mind,  and  do  justice,  as  he  hoped, 
to  suspected  innocence.  Champe  added,  that  he 
was  not  deterred  by  the  danger  and  difficulty  to 


IN    HIS   ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         63 

be  encountered,  but  by  the  ignominy  of  deser- 
tion, consequent  upon  his  enhsting  with  the 
enemy.  It  did  not  comport  with  his  feehngs,  to 
be  even  suspected  of  such  a  crime. 

Lee  combated  the  objections  of  the  sergeant 
with  his  usual  address,  and  finally  subdued  his 
prejudices  so  far,  that  Champe  consented  to  un- 
dertake the  enterprise.  The  instructions  ol 
Washington  were  then  read  to  him;  and  Lee 
particularly  cautioned  him  to  exercise  the  utmost 
circumspection  in  delivering  the  letters,  and 
to  take  care  to  withhold  from  the  two  individ- 
uals addressed  under  feigned  names,  knowledge 
of  each  other.  He  was  further  urged  to  bear  in 
constant  recollection  the  solemn  injunction,  so 
pointedly  expressed  in  the  instructions,  of  for- 
bearing to  kill  Arnold  in  any  event. 

It  now  remained  to  arrange  the  mode  of 
Champe's  desertion,  for  in  order  to  be  received 
favorably  by  the  British,  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  desert  under  circumstances,  which 
should  assure  them  of  his  sincerity.  To  cross 
the  numerous  patrols  of  horse  and  foot,  was  no 
small  difficulty,  which  was  now  increased  in  con 
sequence  of  the  swarms  of  irregulars,  who  some- 
times ventured  down  to  the  very  point  of  Paulus 
Hook,  with  the  hope  of  picking  up  boot}%     Evi- 


b4  ADVENTURES    OF    SERGEANT    CHAMPE 

dent,  as  were  the  difficulties  in  the  way,  no  rehef 
could  be  afforded  by  Major  Lee,  lest  it  might  in- 
duce a  behef  that  he  was  privy  to  the  desertion, 
which  opinion  getting  to  the  enemy,  would  peril 
the  life  of  Champe.  The  sergeant  was  left  to 
his  own  resources  and  management,  Lee  agreeing 
that  in  case  Champe's  departure  should  be  dis- 
covered before  morning,  he  would  take  care  to 
delay  pursuit  as  long  as  practicable. 

Lee  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  sergeant  some 
gold  for  his  expenses,  and  enjoining  it  upon  him 
to  apprize  him  of  his  arrival  in  New  York  as 
soon  as  practicable,  bade  the  adventurous  Vir- 
ginian farewell.  Champe  pulling  out  his  watch, 
compared  it  with  that  of  Lee,  reminding  him  of 
the  importance  of  holding  back  pursuit,  which 
he  was  convinced  would  take  place  during  the 
night,  and  which  might  be  fatal,  as  he  would  be 
obhged  to  adopt  a  zigzag  course  in  order  to 
avoid  the  patrols,  which  would  consume  time. 
It  was  now  nearly  eleven.  The  sergeant  return- 
ed to  camp,  and  taking  his  cloak,  valise,  and 
orderly-book,  he  drew  his  horse  from  the  picket, 
and  mounting,  set  out  upon  his  novel  expedition. 

Hardly  half  an  hour  had  elapsed  when  Captain 
Carnes,  officer  of  the  day,  waited  on  Major  Lee, 
and,  with  considerable  emotion,  told  him  that  one 


IN    HIS    ATTEMPT    TO   CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         65 

of  the  patrol  had  fallen  in  with  a  dragoon,  whoj 
on  being  challenged,  put  spur  to  his  horse  and 
escaped  though  vigorously  pursued.  Lee  com- 
plaining of  the  interruption,  and  pretending  to  be 
extremely  fatigued,  answered  as  if  he  did  not 
understand  what  had  been  said,  which  compelled 
the  captain  to  repeat  his  remark. 

"  Who  can  the  fellow  be  that  was  pursued  V' 
said  Lee ;  "  a  countryman  probably." 

"  No,"  replied  the  captain ;  "  the  patrol 
sufficiently  distinguished  him  to  know  that  he 
was  a  dragoon ;  probably,  one  from  the  army, 
if  not,  certainly  one  of  our  own." 

This  idea  was  ridiculed  by  Lee  as  improbable, 
as  during  the  whole  campaign  but  a  single 
dragoon  had  deserted  from  the  legion.  Carnes 
was  not  convinced.  Much  apprehension  was 
felt  at  that  time  of  the  effect  of  Arnold's  ex- 
ample. The  captain  withdrew  to  examine  the 
squadron  of  horse,  whom  he  had  ordered  to 
assemble  in  pursuance  of  established  usage  on 
similar  occasions.  He  speedily  returned,  stating 
that  the  deserter  was  known ;  he  was  no  less  a 
person  than  the  sergeant-major,  who  was  gone 
off  with  his  horse,  baggage,  arms,  and  orderly- 
book.  Sensibly  affected  at  the  supposed  base- 
ness of  a  soldier^  who  was  generally  esteemed, 

12—5 


66     ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEANT  CHAMPE 

Carries  added,  that  he  had  ordered  a  party  to 
prepare  for  pursuit,  and  that  he  had  come  for 
written  orders  from  the  major. 

In  order  to  gain  time  for  Champe,  Lee  ex- 
pressed his  behef,  that  the  sergeant  had  not 
deserted,  but  had  merely  taken  the  Hberty  to 
leave  camp  upon  private  business  or  pleasure ; 
an  example,  said  Lee,  too  often  set  by  the 
officers  themselves,  destructive  as  it  was  of  dis- 
cipline, opposed  as  it  was  to  orders,  and  disastrous 
as  it  might  prove  to  the  corps  in  the  course  of 
the  service. 

Some  little  delay  was  thus  interposed.  Carnes 
began  to  grow  impatient  at  what  seemed  the 
long-winded  and  unseasonable  discourse.  It 
being  at  length  announced,  that  the  pursuing 
party  were  in  readiness,  Major  Lee  directed  a 
change  in  the  officer,  giving  the  command  to 
Cornet  Middleton.  His  object  was  to  add  to  the 
delay.  He  knew,  moreover,  that,  from  the  ten- 
derness of  his  disposition,  Middleton  would  be 
reluctant  to  do  any  personal  injury  to  Chanipe 
in  the  event  of  a  pursuit. 

Within  ten  minutes  Middleton  appeared  to 
receive  his  orders,  which  were  delivered  to  him, 
made  out  in  the  customary  form,  and  signed  by 
the  major.     The  directions  were,  to  pursue  as 


IN    HIS    ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         67 

far  as  could  be  done  with  safety,  Sergeant 
Champe,  who  was  suspected  of  deserting  to  the 
enemy,  and  of  having  taken  the  road  to  Paulus 
Hook ;  —  to  bring  him  ahve  to  camp,  that  he 
might  suffer  in  the  presence  of  the  army,  but  to 
kill  him  if  he  resisted  or  attempted  to  escape 
after  being  taken. 

Detaining  the  cornet  a  few  minutes  longer,  in 
advising  him  what  course  to  pursue  —  urging 
him  to  take  care  of  the  horse  and  accoutrements 
if  taken  —  and  enjoining  him  to  be  on  his  guard 
lest  he  might,  by  a  too  eager  pursuit,  improvi- 
dently  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy — Lee 
dismissed  Middleton  and  his  party.  A  shower 
of  rain  had  fallen  soon  after  Champe's  departure, 
which  enabled  the  pursuing  dragoons  to  find  the 
trail  of  his  horse ;  for  at  that  time  the  horses 
being  all  shod  by  our  own  farriers,  the  shoes 
were  made  in  the  same  form ;  which,  with  a 
private  mark  annexed  to  the  fore  shoes,  and 
known  to  the  troopers,  pointed  out  the  trail  of 
our  dragoons,  and  in  this  way  was  often  useful. 

When  Middleton  departed  it  was  a  few 
mmutes  past  twelve,  so  that  Champe  had  the 
start  of  his  pursuers  by  little  more  than  an  hour. 
Lee  was  very  anxious,  and  passed  a  sleepless 
night.     The  pursuing  party  were,  on  tl  air  part. 


DO  ADVENTURES    OF    SERGEANT    CHAMPE 

occasionally  delayed  by  the  necessary  halts  to 
examine  the  road,  as  the  impressions  of  the 
horse's  shoes  directed  their  course.  These  were, 
unfortunately,  too  evident,  no  other  horse  having 
passed  over  the  road  since  the  shower.  When 
the  day  broke,  Middleton  was  no  longer  obhged 
to  halt,  and  he  passed  on  with  rapidity. 

As  the  pursuers  ascended  an  eminence  to  the 
north  of  the  village  of  Bergen,  Champe  was 
descried  not  more  than  half  a  mile  in  front. 
Resembling  an  Indian  in  his  vigilance,  the 
sergeant  at  the  same  moment  discovered  Middle- 
ton  and  his  men,  to  whose  object  he  was  no 
stranger,  and  giving  spur  to  his  horse,  he  de- 
termined to  outstrip  them.  Middleton,  at  the 
same  instant,  put  his  horses  to  the  top  of  their 
speed  ;  and  being,  as  the  legion  all  were,  well 
acquainted  with  the  country,  he  recollected  a 
short  route  through  the  woods  to  the  bridge 
below  Bergen,  which  diverged  from  the  great 
road  near  the  Three  Pigeons.  Reaching  the 
point  of  separation,  he  halted,  and  dividing  his 
party,  directed  a  sergeant  with  a  few  dragoons 
to  take  the  near  cut,  and  possess  with  all  possible 
despatch  the  bridge,  while  he  with  the  rest  of 
his  men,  followed  Champe.  He  could  not  doubt 
but  that  Champe  being  thus  enclosed  between 


IN    HIS   ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         69 

him  and  his  sergeant,  would  deliver  himself  up. 
Champe  did  not  forget  the  short  cut,  and  would 
have  taken  it,  had  he  not  remembered  that  it 
was  the  usual  route  of  our  parties  when  return- 
mg  in  the  day  from  the  neighborhood  of  the 
enemy.  He  consequently  avoided  it,  and  wisely 
resolved  to  abandon  his  intention  of  getting  to 
Paulus  Hook,  and  to  seek  refuge  from  two 
British  galleys,  lying  a  few  miles  to  the  west 
of  Bergen. 

This  was  a  station  generally  occupied  by  one 
or  two  galleys.  Passing  through  the  village  of 
Bergen,  Champe  took  the  road  toward  Elizabeth- 
town  Point.  Middleton's  sergeant  gained  the 
bridge  where  he  concealed  himself  ready  to  inter- 
cept Champe  as  soon  as  he  appeared.  In  the 
meantime,  Middleton,  pursuing  his  course  through 
Bergen,  soon  arrived  also  at  the  bridge,  when, 
to  his  mortification,  he  fo  nd  that  Champe  had 
escaped.  Returning  up  the  road,  he  inquired  of 
the  villagers  of  Bergen,  whether  a  dragoon  had 
been  seen  that  morning  preceding  his  party. 
He  was  answered  in  the  affirmative,  but  could 
learn  nothing  satisfactory  as  to  the  route  taken 
by  the  fugitive.  While  engaged  in  inquiries 
himself,  he  spread  his  party  through  the  village 
to  discover  the  trail  of  Champe's  horse.     Some 


70  ADVENTURES    OF    SERGEANT    CHAMPE 

of  the  dragoons  hit  it,  just  as  the  sergeant 
leaving  the  village,  reached  the  road  to  the  point 

Pursuit  was  now  vigorously  renewed,  and 
again  Champ e  was  descried.  Apprehending  the 
event,  he  had  prepared  himself  for  it  by  lashing 
his  valise  and  orderly-book  on  his  shoulders,  and 
holding  his  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  having 
thrown  away  the  scabbard.  The  chase  became 
rapid  and  close.  The  delay  occasioned  by 
Champe's  preparations  for  swimming  had  brought 
Middleton  within  two  or  three  hundred  yards. 
As  soon  as  Champe  got  abreast  of  the  galleys, 
he  dismounted,  and  running  through  the  marsh 
to  the  river,  plunged  into  it,  calling  on  the  people 
in  the  galley  for  help.  This  was  readily  given. 
They  fired  on  our  horsemen,  and  sent  a  boat  to 
meet  Champe,  who  was  taken  in,  carried  on 
board,  and  conveyed  to  New  York,  with  a  letter 
from  the  captain  of  the  galley,  describing  the 
scene,  which  he  had  himself  witnessed  of 
Champe's  escape. 

The  horse  belonging  to  Champe,  with  his 
equipments,  cloak,  and  sword-scabbard,  was  re- 
covered by  Middleton.  About  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  our  party  returned,  and  the  soldiers 
seeing  the  horse  in  the  possession  of  the  pursuing 
party,  exclaimed  that  the  deserter  had  been  killed 


IN    HIS    ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTUEE    ARNOLD.        71 

Major  Lee,  at  this  heart-rending  announcement, 
rushed  from  his  tent,  saw  the  sergeant's  horse 
led  by  one  of  Middleton's  dragoons,  and  began 
to  reproach  himself  with  having  been  the  means 
of  spilling  the  blood  of  the  faithful  and  intrepid 
Champe.  Concealing  his  anguish,  he  advanced 
to  meet  Middleton,  but  was  immediately  relieved 
on  seeing  the  downcast  countenances  of  the 
officer  and  his  companions.  From  their  looks  of 
disappointment,  it  was  evident  that  Champe  had 
escaped,  and  this  suspicion  was  soon  confirmed 
by  Middleton's  narrative  of  the  issue  of  their 
pursuit. 

Lee's  joy  was  now  as  great  as  his  depression 
had  been  a  moment  before.  He  informed  Wash- 
ington of  the  affair,  who  was  sensibly  affected 
by  the  account  of  Champe's  hairbreadth  escape, 
but  was  rejoiced  that  it  was  of  a  character  to  put 
at  rest  the  supicions  of  the  enemy,  in  regard  to 
the  supposed  deserter. 

On  the  fourth  day  after  Champe's  departure, 
Lee  received  a  letter  from  him,  written  the  day 
before,  in  a  disguised  hand,  w^ithout  any  sigiia- 
ture,  and  stating  what  had  passed,  after  he  got 
on  board  the  galley,  where  he  was  kindly  received. 
He  was  immediately  conducted  to  New  York, 
and  introduced  to  the  British  commandant,  to 


72     ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEAJ^T  CHAMPE 

whom  he  presented  a  letter  from  the  captain  of  the 
galley.  Being  asked  to  what  corps  he  belonged, 
and  a  few  other  general  questions,  he  was  sent 
under  charge  of  an  orderly-sergeant  to  the  ad- 
jutant-general, who  was  rejoiced  to  find  that  he 
was  sergeant-major  of  the  legion  of  horse, 
hitherto  remarkable  for  their  fidehty. 

The  adjutant-general  noted  down  in  a  large 
folio  book  some  particulars  in  regard  to 
Champe  —  his  size,  figure,  place  of  birth,  coun- 
tenance, the  color  of  his  hair,  and  the  name  of 
the  corps  to  which  he  had  belonged.  After  this 
was  finished,  he  was  sent  to  the  commander-in- 
chief  in  charge  of  one  of  the  staff,  with  a  lettei 
from  the  adjutant-general.  Sir  Henry  Clinton 
received  him  very  kindly,  and  detained  him  more 
than  an  hour,  asking  many  questions  in  regard  to 
the  probable  fate  of  Andre  —  whether  the  ex- 
ample of  Arnold's  defection  had  not  contaminated 
many  of  the  American  oflficers  and  troops  — 
whether  Washington  was  popular  with  the  army, 
and  what  means  might  be  employed  to  induce 
the  men  to  desert.  To  these  various  interroga- 
tories, some  of  which  were  perplexing,  Champe 
answered  warily ;  exciting,  nevertheless,  hopes 
that  the  adoption  of  proper  measures  to  en- 
courage  desertion,    would    probably    bring   of! 


fN   HIS   ATTEMPT   TO   CAPTURE   ARNOLD.        73 

hundreds  of  the  American  soldiers,  including 
some  of  the  best  troops,  horse  as  well  as  foot. 
Respecting  the  fate  of  Andre,  he  said  he  was 
ignorant,  though  there  appeared  to  be  a  general 
wish  in  the  army  that  his  life  might  not  be  taken ; 
and  that  he  believed  that  it  would  depend  more 
on  the  disposition  of  Congress,  than  on  the 
will  of  Washington. 

After  the  close  of  this  long  conversation,  Sir 
Henry  presented  Champe  with  a  couple  of 
guineas,  and  recommended  him  to  wait  on  Gen- 
eral Arnold,  who  was  engaged  in  raising  an 
American  legion  for  the  service  of  his  majesty. 
Arnold  expressed  much  satisfaction  on  being  in- 
formed of  the  effect  of  his  example  and  the  man- 
ner of  Champe's  escape.  He  concluded  his 
numerous  inquiries  by  assigning  quarters  to  the 
sergeant.  He  afterward  proposed  to  Champe 
to  join  his  legion,  promising  him  the  same  station 
he  had  held  in  the  rebel  service  and  further  ad- 
vancement. Expressing  his  wish  to  retire  from 
service,  and  his  conviction  of  the  certainty  of 
his  being  hung,  if  ever  taken  by  the  rebels,  he 
begged  to  be  excused  from  enlistment;  assuring 
the  general,  that  should  he  change  his  mind,  he 
would  accept  his  offer. 

Retiring  to  the   assigned   quarters,  Champe 


74  ADVENTURES   OF   SERGEANT   CHAMPE 

now  turned  his  attention  to  the  delivery  of  ha 
letters,  v^^hich  he  could  not  effect  till  the  next 
night,  and  then  only  to  one  of  the  two  incogniti, 
to  whom  he  was  recommended.  This  man  re- 
ceived the  sergeant  with  attention,  and  having 
read  the  letter,  assured  him  of  his  faithful  co- 
operation. The  object,  for  which  the  aid  of  this 
individual  was  required,  regarded  those  persons 
implicated  in  the  information  sent  to  Washington 
Promising  to  enter  with  zeal  upon  the  investiga- 
tion, and  engaging  to  transmit  Champe's  letters 
to  Major  Lee,  he  fixed  the  time  and  place  ol 
their  next  meeting,  when  they  separated.  A 
day  or  two  afterward,  Champe  accepted  the  ap- 
pointment of  recruiting  sergeant  to  Arnold,  for 
the  purpose  of  securing  uninterrupted  ingress 
and  egress  at  the  house  which  the  general  occu- 
pied. 

The  letters,  which  Lee  received  from  Champe, 
announced  that  the  difficulties  in  his  way  were 
numerous  and  stubborn,  and  that  his  prospect  of 
success  was  by  no  means  cheering.  With  re- 
spect to  the  charges  against  certain  officers  and 
soldiers  in  the  American  army  of  an  intention  to 
follow  Arnold's  example,  he  expressed  his  deci- 
ded conviction  that  they  were  unfounded  ;  that 
they  had  taken  their  rise  in  the  enemy's  camp, 


IN    HIS    ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         75 

and  that  they  would  be  satisfactorily  confuted. 
The  pleasure  which  the  latter  part  of  this  com- 
munication afforded  was  damped  by  the  tidings 
it  imparted  respecting  Arnold,  as  on  his  speedy 
capture  and  delivery  depended  Andre's  relief. 

The  interposition  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  who 
was  extremely  anxious  to  save  his  much  loved 
aide-de-camp,  still  continued.  It  was  expected 
that  the  examination  of  witnesses  in  Andre's 
case  and  the  defence  of  the  prisoner,  would 
protract  the  decision  of  the  court  of  inquiry  then 
assembled,  and  give  sufficient  time  for  the  con- 
summation of  the  project  confided  to  Champe. 
This  hope  was  disappointed  in  a  manner  wholly 
unexpected.  The  honorable  and  accomplished 
Andre  disdained  defence,  and  prevented  the 
examination  of  Avitnesses  by  confessing  the 
character  of  the  mission,  in  the  execution  of 
which  he  was  arrested.  The  court  reassembled 
on  the  second  of  October.  Andre  was  declared 
to  be  a  spy,  and  condemned  to  suffer  accordingly 

The  painful  sentence  was  executed  on  the 
subsequent  day,  in  the  usual  form,  the  com- 
mander-in-chief deeming  it  improper  to  interpose 
any  delay.  In  this  decision  he  was  warranted 
by  the  unpromising  intelligence  received  from 
Champe  —  by  the  still  existing  implication  of 


76  ADVENTURES  OF   SERGEANT   CHAMPE 

other  officers  in  Arnold's  conspiracy — by  a  due 
regard  to  public  opinion,  and  by  the  inexorable 
necessity  of  a  severe  example. 

The  fate  of  Andre,  hastened  by  himself 
deprived  the  enterprise  committed  to  Champe 
of  a  feature  which  had  been  highly  prized  by 
the  projector,  and  which  had  engaged  the  heart 
of  the  individual  selected  for  its  execution. 
Washington  ordered  Major  Lee  to  communicate 
what  had  passed  to  the  sergeant,  with  directions 
to  encourage  him  to  prosecute  wath  vigor  the 
remaining  objects  of  his  instructions.  Champe 
bitterly  deplored  the  fate  of  Andre  and  confessed 
that  the  hope  of  saving  the  unfortunate  young 
man  had  been  his  main  inducement  in  under- 
taking his  dangerous  enterprise.  Nothing  now 
remained  but  to  attempt  the  seizure  of  Arnold. 
To  this  object  Champe  gave  his  undivided 
attention.  Ten  days  elapsed  before  he  could 
conclude  his  arrangements,  at  the  end  of  which 
time,  Lee  received  from  him  his  final  communi- 
cation, appointing  the  third  subsequent  night  for 
a  party  of  dragoons  to  meet  him  at  Hoboken, 
when  he  hoped  to  deliver  Arnold  to  the  officer. 

From  the  moment  of  his  enlistment  into 
Arnold's  corps,  Champe  had  every  opportunity 
he  could  desire  for  watching  the  habits  of  tb*t 


IN    HIS   ATTEMPT   TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         77 

individua].  He  discovered  that  it  was  his  custom 
to  return  home  about  twelve  every  night,  and 
that  previous  to  going  to  bed,  he  generally 
walked  in  his  garden.  During  this  visit,  the 
conspirators  were  to  seize  him,  gag  him,  and 
carry  him  across  the  river. 

Adjoining  the  house  in  which  Arnold  resided, 
and  in  which  it  was  designed  to  seize  and  gag 
him,  Champe  had  taken  out  several  of  the 
palings  and  replaced  them,  so  that  they  might 
be  readily  removed,  and  open  a  way  to  the 
neighboring  alley.  Into  this  alley  he  meant  to 
have  conveyed  his  prisoner,  aided  by  his  com- 
panion, one  of  two  associates  who  had  been 
introduced  by  the  friend  to  whom  Champe  had 
been  originally  made  known  by  letter  from  the 
commander-in-chief,  and  with  whose  aid  and 
counsel  he  had  so  far  conducted  the  enterprise. 
His  other  associate  was  in  readiness  with  the 
boat  at  one  of  the  w^harves  on  the  Hudson  river, 
to  receive  the  party. 

Champe  and  his  friend  intended  to  have  placed 
themselves  each  under  Arnold's  shoulder,  and  to 
have  thus  borne  him  through  the  most  unfre- 
quented alleys  and  streets  to  the  boat ;  repre- 
senting Arnold,  in  case  of  being  questioned,  as  a 
drunken  sailor,  whom  they  were  conveying  to 


78     ADVENTURES  OF  SERGEANT  CHAMPE 

the  guard-house.  The  passage  across  the  rivei 
could  be  easily  accomplished. 

These  particulars  were  communicated  by  Lee 
to  Washington,  who  directed  the  former  to  meet 
Champe  and  to  take  care  that  Arnold  should  not 
be  hurt.  The  appointed  day  arrived,  and  Lee 
with  a  party  of  dragoons  left  camp  late  in  the 
evening  with  three  led  horses,  one  for  Arnold, 
one  for  the  sergeant,  and  the  third  for  his  asso- 
ciate. From  the  tenor  of  the  last  communication 
from  Champe,  no  doubt  was  entertained  of  the 
success  of  the  enterprise.  The  party  from  the 
American  camp  reached  Hoboken  about  mid- 
night, where  they  were  concealed  in  the  adjoin- 
ing wood — Lee,  with  three  dragoons,  stationing 
himself  near  the  river  shore. 

Hour  after  hour  passed.  No  boat  approached. 
At  length  the  day  broke,  and  the  major  retired 
with  his  party  back  to  the  camp,  much  chagrined 
at  the  failure  of  the  project. 

In  a  few  days,  Lee  received  an  anonymous 
letter  from  Champe's  patron  and  friend,  inform- 
ing  him,  that  on  the  day  preceding  the  night  for 
the  execution  of  the  plot,  Arnold  had  removed  his 
quarters  to  another  part  of  the  town,  to  super- 
intend the  embarkation  of  troops  preparing,  as 
Was  rumored,  for  an  expedition  to  be  placed 


EN    HIS    ATTEMPT    TO    CAPTURE    ARNOLD.         79 

under  his  own  direction.  The  American  legion, 
consisting  chiefly  of  American  deserters,  had 
been  transferred  from  the  barracks  to  one  of  the 
transports ;  it  being  apprehended  that  if  left  on 
shore  til)  the  expedition  was  ready,  many  of 
them  might  desert. 

Thus  it  happened  that  John  Champe,  instead 
of  crosshig  the  Hudson  that  night,  was  safely 
deposited  on  board  one  of  the  transports,  from 
which  he  never  departed  till  the  troops  under 
Arnold  landed  in  Virginia.  Nor  was  he  able  to 
escape  from  the  British  army  till  after  the  junc- 
tion of  Lord  Cornwallis  at  Petersburgh,  when  he 
deserted,  and  passing  through  Virginia  into 
North  Carohna,  safely  joined  the  American 
army  soon  after  it  had  passed  the  Congaree,  in 
pursuit  of  Lord  Rawdon. 

Champe's  appearance  excited  extreme  sur- 
prise among  his  former  comrades,  which  was 
not  a  little  increased  when  they  witnessed  the 
cordial  reception,  which  he  met  with  from  the 
late  Major  now  Lieutenant-Colonel  Lee.  His 
whole  story  soon  became  known  to  the  corps, 
and  he  became  an  object  of  increased  respect 
and  regard. 

Champe  was  munificently  rewarded,  and  Gen- 
eral Washington  gave  him  a  discharge  from  fur- 


80  ADVENTURES   OF    SERGEANT   CHAMPE. 

ther  service,  lest  in  the  vicissitudes  of  war  he 
might  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands,  in  which 
event,  if  recognised,  he  could  expect  no  mercy. 
Champe  resided  in  Loudon  county,  Virginia, 
after  leavmg  the  army.  He  afterward  remov- 
ed to  Kentucky,  where  he  died.  For  a  full 
account  of  his  adventures,  we  may  refer  the 
reader  to  Major  Lee's  Memoirs,  to  which  w€ 
have  been  largely  indebted. 


CAPTURE    OF    JAMES    SMITH.  81 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CAITURE   OF   JAMES   SMITH    BY   A   TRIBE   OF   INDIANS 

IN     PENNSYLVANIA  HIS      ADVENTURES      AMONG 

THEM. 

In  the  spring  of  tne  year  1755,  James  Smith, 
then  a  youth  of  eighteen,  accompanied  a  party 
of  three  hundred  men  from  the  frontiers  of  Penn- 
sylvania; who  advanced  in  front  of  Braddock's 
army  for  the  purpose  of  opening  a  road  over 
the  mountain.  When  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
Bedford  Springs,  he  was  sent  back  to  the  rear, 
to  hasten  the  progress  of  some  wagons  laden 
with  provisions  and  stores  for  the  use  of  the 
road-cutters. 

Having  delivered  his  orders.  Smith  was  return- 
ing in  company  with  another  young  man,  when 
they  were  suddenly  fired  upon  by  a  party  of 
three  Indians  from  a  cedar  thicket,  which  skirt- 
ed the  road.  Smith's  companion  was  killed  on 
the  spot ;  and,  although  he  himself  was  unhurt, 
vet  his  horse  was  so  much  frightened  by  the 
12—6 


82  CAPTURE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

flash  and  report  of  the  guns,  as  to  become  totally 
unmanageable,  and,  after  a  few  plunges,  threw 
him  with  violence  to  the  ground.  Before  he 
could  recover  his  feet,  the  Indians  sprung  upon 
him,  and,  overpowering  his  resistance,  secured 
him  as  a  prisoner. 

One  of  them  demanded  in  broken  English, 
whether  more  white  men  were  coming  up  ;  and 
upon  his  answering  in  the  negative,  he  was 
seized  by  each  arm,  and  compelled  to  run  with 
great  rapidity  over  the  mountain  until  night, 
when  the  small  party  encamped  and  cooked 
their  supper.  An  equal  share  of  their  scanty 
stock  of  provisions  was  given  to  the  prisoner  ; 
and,  in  other  respects,  although  strictly  guarded, 
he  was  treated  with  great  kindness. 

On  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  after  a  rapid 
walk  of  fifty  miles  through  cedar  thickets  and 
over  very  rocky  ground,  they  reached  the  west- 
ern side  of  the  Laurel  mountain,  and  beheld  at 
a  little  distance  the  smoke  of  an  Indian  encamp- 
ment. The  captors  now  fired  their  guns,  and 
raised  the  terrible  scalp-halloo.  This  is  a  long 
yell  for  every  scalp  that  has  been  taken,  follow- 
ed by  a  rapid  succession  of  shrill,  quick,  piercing 
shrieks,  somewhat  resembling  laughter  in  its 
most  excited  tones.     They  were  answered  from 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA,       83 

the  Indian  camp  below,  by  a  discharge  of  rifles, 
and  a  long  whoop,  followed  by  cries  of  joy. 
All  thronged  out  to  meet  the  party. 

Smith  expected  instant  death  at  their  hands, 
as  they  crowded  round  him.  To  his  surprise, 
no  one  offered  him  any  violence.  They  be- 
longed to  another  tribe,  and  entertained  the 
party  in  their  camp  with  great  hospitahty,  re- 
specting the  prisoner  as  the  property  of  their 
guests. 

The  next  morning  Smith's  captors  continued 
their  march,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day 
arrived  at  Fort  Du  Quesne,  now  Pittsburgh. 
When  within  half  a  mile  of  the  fort,  they  again 
raised  the  interesting  scalp-halloo,  and  fired 
their  guns  as  before.  Instantly  the  whole  gar- 
rison was  in  commotion.  The  cannon  were 
fired,  the  drums  were  beaten,  and  French  and 
Indians  ran  out  in  great  numbers  to  meet  the 
party,  and  partake  of  their  triumph.  Smith 
was  again  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  savages, 
painted  with  various  colors,  and  shouting  with 
delight ;  but  their  demeanor  was  by  no  means 
as  pacific  as  that  of  the  last  party  he  had  en- 
countered. They  rapidly  formed  in  two  long 
lines,  and,  brandishing  their  hatchets,  ramrods, 
ai¥i  clubs,  called  upon  him  *o  run  the  gauntlet 


84  CAPTURE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

Never  having  heard  of  this  Indian  ceremony 
before,  he  stood  amazed  for  some  time,  not 
knowing  vt^hat  to  do.  One  of  his  captors  ex- 
plained to  him,  that  he  was  to  run  between  the 
two  lines,  and  receive  a  blow  from  every  Indian 
as  he  passed.  His  informant  concluded  the  in- 
formation by  exhorting  him  to  "  run  his  best," 
as  the  faster  he  run  the  sooner  the  sport  would 
be  over. 

This  truth  was  very  plain ;  and  young  Smith 
entered  upon  his  race  with  spirit.  He  was 
switched  very  handsomely  along  the  lines,  for 
about  three  fourths  of  the  distance,  the  stripes 
only  acting  as  a  spur  to  greater  exertions,  and 
he  had  almost  reached  the  opposite  extremity  of 
the  line,  when  a  tall  chief  struck  him  a  furious 
blow  with  a  club  upon  the  back  of  the  head,  and 
instantly  felled  him  to  the  ground.  Recovering 
himself  instantly.  Smith  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
started  forward  again,  when  a  handful  of  sand 
was  thrown  in  his  eyes,  which,  in  addition  to  the 
great  pain,  completely  bhnded  him.  He  still 
attempted  to  grope  his  way  through ;  but  was 
again  Iqiocked  down  and  beaten  with  merciless 
severity.  He  soon  became  insensible  under  such 
barbarous  treatment. 

On  recovering  his  senses,  he  found  himself, 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.       85 

Deaten  to  a  jelly,  and  unable  to  move  a  limb,  in 
the  hospital  of  the  fort,  under  the  hands  of  a 
French  surgeon.  Here  he  was  soon  visited  by 
one  of  his  captors,  the  same,  who  had  given  him 
the  advice  on  commencing  the  race,  and  who 
now  inquired,  with  some  appearance  of  interest, 
if  he  "  felt  very  sore." 

Young  Smith  replied,  that  he  had  been  bruised 
almost  to  death ;  and  his  savage  friend  assured 
him,  that  he  had  merely  experienced  the  cus- 
tomary greeting  of  the  Indians  to  their  prisoners. 

Smith  rapidly  recovered,  and  was  soon  able 
to  walk  on  the  battlements  of  the  fort.  On  the 
morning  of  the  nmth  of  July,  he  observed  an 
unusual  bustle.  The  Indians,  armed  and  paint- 
ed, stood  in  crowds  at  the  great  gate.  Many 
barrels  of  powder,  ball  and  flints,  were  brought 
out  to  them,  from  w^hich  the  warriors  helped 
themselves  to  such  articles  as  they  required. 
They  were  soon  joined  by  a  smaU  detachment 
of  French  regulars,  when  the  whole  party 
marched  off  together  He  soon  learned,  that 
they  were  proceeding  against  Braddock,  who 
was  now  within  a  few  miles  of  the  fort.  In  the 
afternoon  an  Indian  runner  arrived,  announcing 
that  the  battle  had  not  yet  ended,  but  that  Brad- 
dock's  men  had  been  surrounded  and  were  shot 


S6  CAPTITRE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

down  in  heaps  by  an  invisible  enemy  ;  that  m- 
stead  of  flying  at  once,  or  rushing  upon  their 
concealed  foe,  they  appeared  completely  be- 
wildered, and  huddled  together  in  the  centre  of 
th(d  ring.  It  was  probable  that,  before  sundown, 
there  would  not  be  a  man  of  them  alive. 

This  intelligence  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon 
Smith,  who  now  saw  no  hope  of  rescue  from  the 
savages,  and  looked  forward  to  nothing  but  tor- 
ture, or  endless  captivity.  About  sunset,  he 
heard  at  a  distance  the  well-known  scalp-halloo, 
followed  by  wild,  quick,  joyful  shrieks,  and  ac- 
companied by  long  firing.  This,  too  surely, 
announced  the  fate  of  the  day.  About  dusk, 
the  party  returned  to  the  fort,  driving  before 
them  twelve  British  regulars,  stripped  naked, 
and  with  their  faces  painted  black  —  a  sign  that 
the  unhappy  wretches  were  devoted  to  death. 

Next  came  the  Indians  displaying  their  bloody 
scalps,  of  which  they  had  immense  numbers,  and 
dressed  in  the  scarlet  coats,  sashes,  ana  military 
hats  of  the  officers  and  soldiers.  Behind  all 
came  a  train  of  baggage-horses,  laden  with  piles 
of  scalps,  canteens,  and  all  the  accoutrements 
of  war.  The  savages  appeared  frantic  with  joy, 
and  when  Smith  beheld  them  entering  the  fort, 
dancing,  yelling,  brandishing  their   red  toma- 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.       87 

hawks,  and  waving  their  scalps  in  the  air,  while 
the  great  guns  of  the  fort  replied  to  the  incessant 
discharge  of  rifles  without,  he  says,  that  it  look- 
ed as  if  the  infernal  regions  had  given  a  holyday, 
and  turned  loose  their  inhabitants  upon  the  upper 
world. 

The  most  melancholy  spectacle  was  the  band 
of  prisoners.  They  appeared  dejected  and  anx- 
ious. Poor  fellows !  They  had  but  a  few 
months  before  left  London  at  the  command  of 
their  superiors,  and  we  may  imagine  their  feel- 
ings at  the  strange  and  dreadful  spectacle  around 
them.  The  yells  of  delight  and  congratulation 
were  scarcely  over,  when  those  of  vengeance 
began.  The  devoted  prisoners,  British  regulars, 
were  led  out  from  the  fort  to  the  banks  of  the 
Allegany,  and,  to  the  eternal  disgrace  of  the 
French  commandant,  were  there  burnt  to  death, 
one  after  the  other,  with  the  most  awful  tor- 
ments. Smith  stood  upon  the  battlements  and 
witnessed  the  horrid  spectacle.  It  took  place  so 
near  the  fort,  that  the  screams  of  anguish  from 
the  victims  must  have  rung  in  the  ears  of  the 
inhuman  Frenchman ! 

Two  or  three  days  after  this  affair,  most  of 
the  Indian  tribes  dispersed  and  returned  to  their 
homes,  as  is  usual  with  them  after  a  gre.^t  and 


88  CAPTURE    OF   JAMES    SMITH 

decisive  battle.  Young  Smith  was  demanded  of 
the  French  by  the  tribe  by  whom  he  had  been 
captured,  and  was  immediately  surrendered  into 
their  hands. 

The  party  embarked  in  canoes,  and  ascended 
the  Allegany  river,  as  far  as  a  small  Indian 
town  about  forty  miles  above  Fort  Du  Quesne. 
There  they  abandoned  their  canoes,  and  striking 
into  the  woods,  travelled  in  a  western  direction 
until  they  arrived  at  a  considerable  Indian  town, 
in  what  is  now  the  state  of  Ohio.  This  village 
was  called  Tullihas,  and  was  situated  upon  the 
western  branch  of  the  Muskingum. 

During  the  whole  of  this  period.  Smith  suffer- 
ed much  anxiety,  from  the  uncertainty  of  his 
future  fate,  but  at  this  town  all  doubt  was  re- 
moved. On  the  morning  of  his  arrival,  the  prin- 
cipal members  of  the  tribe  gathered  around  him ; 
and  one  old  man,  with  much  gravity,  began  to 
pluck  out  his  hair  by  the  roots,  while  the  others 
looked  on  in  silence,  smoking  their  pipes  with 
great  deliberation. 

Smith  did  not  understand  the  design  of  this 
singular  ceremony,  but  submitted  very  patiently 
to  the  man's  labors,  who  performed  the  opera- 
tion of  picking  hJm,  with  great  dexterity,  dip- 
ping   his    fingers    in    ashes,    occasionally,    in 


BY   A    TRIBE    OF    INDIANS    IN   PENNSYLVANIA.     89 

order  to  take  a  better  hold.  In  a  very  few  mo- 
ments Smith's  head  was  bald,  with  the  exception 
of  a  single  long  tuft  upon  the  centre  of  his 
crown,  called  the  scalp-lock.  This  was  care- 
fully planted  in  such  a  manner  as  to  stand  up- 
right, and  was  ornamented  with  several  silver 
brooches.  His  ears  and  nose  were  then  bored 
by  the  old  Indian,  with  his  usual  gravity,  and 
ornamented  with  rings  and  jewels.  He  was 
then  ordered  to  strip ;  which  being  done,  his 
naked  body  was  painted  with  various  fantastic 
colors,  and  a  breech- cloth  fastened  round  his 
loins.  A  belt  of  wampum  was  placed  around 
bis  neck,  and  silver  bands  around  his  right 
arm. 

To  all  this.  Smith  submitted  with  much  anxi- 
ety, being  totally  ignorant  of  their  customs,  and 
dreading  lest,  like  the  British  prisoners,  he  had 
been  stripped  and  painted  for  the  stake.  His 
alarm  was  increased,  when  an  old  chief  arose, 
took  him  by  the  arm,  and  leading  him  out  into 
the  open  air,  gave  three  shrill  whoops,  and  was 
immediately  surrounded  by  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  village,  warriors,  women,  and  children. 

The  chief  then  addressed  the  crowd  in  a  long 
speech,  still  holding  Smith  by  the  hand.  When 
he  had  ceased  speaking,  he  led  the  captive  for- 
I.— H 


90  CAPTUKE    OF   JAMES   SMITH 

ward,  and  delivered  him  into  the  hands  of  three 
young  Indian  girls,  who,  grappling  him  with- 
out ceremony,  pulled  him  toward  the  rivei 
which  ran  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  dragged  him 
into  the  water  up  to  his  breast,  and,  all  three 
suddenly  clapping  their  hands  upon  his  head, 
attempted  to  put  him  \mder.  Utterly  desperate 
at  the  idea  of  being  drowned  by  these  forward 
young  ladies.  Smith  made  a  manful  resistance. 
The  squaws  persevered,  and  a  prodigious  splash- 
ing of  water  took  place  amid  loud  peals  of 
laughter  from  the  shore. 

At  length  one  of  the  squaws  became  alarmed 
at  the  furious  struggles  of  the  young  white  man, 
and  cried  out  earnestly  several  times,  "  No  hurt 
you !  no  hurt  you  !"  Upon  this  agreeable  intel- 
ligence. Smith's  resistance  ceased;  and  these 
gentle  creatures  plunged  him  under  the  water, 
and  scrubbed  him  from  head  to  foot  with  equal 
zeal  and  perseverance.  As  soon  as  they  had 
finished,  they  led  him  ashore,  and  presented  him 
to  the  chief,  shivering  with  cold  and  dripping 
with  water. 

The  Indians  then  dressed  him  in  a  ruffled 
shirt,  leggins  and  moccasins,  variously  ornament- 
ed ;  seated  him  upon  a  bearskin,  and  gave  him  a 
pipe,  tomahawk,  some  tobacco,  a  pouch,  flint 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.        91 

and  steel.  The  chiefs  then  took  their  seats  by 
his  side,  and  smoked  for  several  minutes  in  deep 
silence,  when  the  eldest  delivered  a  speech, 
through  an  interpreter,  in  the  folloM^ing  words  : 
"  My  son,  you  are  now  one  of  us.  Hereafter  you 
have  n(  thing  to  fear.  By  an  ancient  custom,  you 
have  been  adopted  in  the  room  of  a  brave  man, 
who  has  fallen  ;  and  every  drop  of  white  blood 
has  been  washed  from  your  veins.  We  are  now 
your  brothers,  and  are  bound  by  our  law  to  love 
you,  to  defend  you,  and  to  avenge  your  injuries, 
as  much  as  if  you  had  been  born  among  us." 

He  was  then  introduced  to  the  members  of  the 
family,  into  which  he  had  been  adopted,  and 
was  received  by  the  whole  of  them  with  hvely 
demonstrations  of  regard.  In  the  evening  he 
received  an  invitation  to  a  great  feast ;  and  was 
there  presented  with  a  w^ooden  bowl  and  spoon, 
and  directed  to  fill  the  former  from  a  huge  ket- 
tle of  boiled  corn  and  hashed  venison.  The 
evening  concluded  with  a  war-dance,  and  the 
next  morning,  the  warriors  of  the  tribe  assembled, 
and  leaving  one  or  two  hunters  to  provide  for 
their  families  in  their  absence,  the  rest  marched 
for  the  frontiers  of  Virginia.  In  leaving  the  vil- 
lage, the  warriors  observed  the  most  profound 
silence,  with  the  exception  of  their  leader,  who 


92  CAPTURE    OF   JAMES    SMITH 

sung  the  travelling-song,  as  it  is  called ;  and 
when  some  distance  off,  they  discharged  their 
rifles  slowly,  and  in  regular  succession,  begin- 
ning in  front  and  ending  with  the  rear. 

As  soon  as  the  warriors  had  left  them.  Smith 
was  invited  to  a  dance,  in  which  the  Indian  boys 
and  young  unmarried  squaws  assembled,  and 
amused  themselves  for  several  hours.  They 
formed  in  two  lines,  facing  each  other,  at  the 
distance  of  about  twenty  feet.  One  of  the  young 
men  held  a  gourd  in  his  hand,  filled  with  pebbles 
or  beads,  which  he  rattled  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  produce  music.  All  the  dancers  singing  in 
concert  with  their  leader,  moved  forward  in  a 
line  until  the  parties  met ;  then  they  retired,  and 
repeated  the  same  exercise  for  hours  without  the 
least  variation. 

With  the  Indians,  it  is  uniformly  the  custom 
to  invite  every  visiter  to  eat,  as  soon  as  he  enters 
the  wigwam ;  and,  if  he  refuses,  they  are  much 
offended,  regarding  it  as  an  evidence  of  hostility 
to  them,  and  contempt  for  their  housekeeping. 
Smith,  ignorant  of  this  circumstance,  was  some- 
times pressed  to  eat  twenty  times  in  a  day,  and. 
observing  their  dark  and  suspicious  glances  when 
he  declined  their  hospitality,  he  endeavored  at 
length  to  satisfy  them,  at  the  risk  of  stuffing 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.        93 

himself  to  death.  Making  it  a  point  to  eat  with 
all  who  invited  him,  he  soon  found  himself  in 
great  favor,  and  in  the  v^ourse  of  a  week  after 
his  adoption,  an  old  chief  honored  him  with  an 
invitation  to  dine  Avith  him.  Smith  readily 
consented. 

At  the  distance  of  a  few  miles  from  the  vil- 
lage, they  discovered  a  number  of  buffalo-tracks. 
The  old  Indian  regarded  them  attentively,  and 
iollowed  them  "'Adth  great  caution,  stopping  fre- 
quently to  listen,  and  rolling  his  eyes  keenly  in 
every  direction.  Smith,  surprised  at  this  singular 
•onduct,  asked  him  why  he  did  not  push  on  more 
rapidly,  and  endeavor  to  get  a  shot.  "  Hush  !" 
said  the  Indian,  shaking  his  head,  '-'may  be 
buffalo  —  may  be  Catawba." 

Having  at  length  satisfied  himself  that  they 
were  really  buffalo,  he  pushed  on  more  rapidly, 
and  on  the  way  assigned  his  reasons  for  his 
hesitation.  He  said,  that  the  Catawbas  had  long 
been  at  war  with  his  tribe,  and  were  the  most 
cunning  and  wicked  nation  in  the  world.  That 
a  few  years  ago,  they  had  secretly  approached 
his  camp  in  the  night,  and  sent  out  a  few  of  their 
spies,  mounted  upon  buffalo-hoofs,  who  walked 
round  their  camp  and  then  returned  to  the  main 
body.     That,  in  the  morning,  he  and  his  war- 


94  CAPTURE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

nors,  perceiving  their  tracks,  supposed  a  herd 
of  buffalo  to  be  ahead  of  them,  and  moved  on 
rapidly  in  pursuit.  That  they  soon  fell  into  the 
ambuscade,  were  fired  on  by  the  Catawbas,  and 
many  of  them  killed.  The  Catawbas,  however, 
quickly  gave  way,  and  were  pursued  by  his 
young  men  with  great  eagerness.  But  they  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  stick  a  number  of  slender 
reeds  in  the  grass,  sharpened  like  a  pen,  and 
dipped  in  rattlesnake's  poison,  so  that,  as  his 
young  men  pursued  them  eagerly,  most  of  them 
were  artificially  snakehitten  and  lamed.  That 
the  Catawbas  turned  upon  them,  overpowered 
them,  and  took  the  scalps  of  all  who  had  been 
lamed  by  the  reeds.  The  old  man  concluded  by 
shaking  his  head,  and  declaring,  that  "  Catawba 
was  very  bad  Indian  —  a  perfect  devil  for 
mischief." 

A  few  days  afterward.  Smith  was  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  fall  into  discredit  with  these  simple 
people.  He  had  been  directed  to  go  out  and 
kill  some  venison  for  the  squaws  and  children, 
who  had  suffered  for  severil  days,  during  the 
absence  of  the  greater  part  of  the  warriors.  As 
this  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  been  intrusted 
with  so  weighty  a  commission  alone,  he  was 
anxious  to  signalize  his   hunt   by  an    unusua. 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.       96 

display  of  skill  and  enterprise.  He,  therefore, 
struck  boldly  into  the  woods,  and,  at  a  few  miles' 
distance,  falling  upon  a  fresh  buffalo  trail,  he 
pushed  on  for  several  miles  with  great  eager- 
ness. Despairing  at  length,  however,  of  over- 
taking them,  as  the  evening  came  on,  he  began 
to  retrace  his  steps,  and,  as  he  had  taken  a  con- 
siderable circuit,  he  determined  to  cut  across  the 
hills,  and  reach  the  village  by  a  shorter  way. 
He  soon  became  inextricably  involved  in  the 
mazes  of  the  forest,  and  at  dark  found  himself 
completely  bewildered.  He  fired  his  gun  re- 
peatedly, in  the  hope  of  being  heard,  but  his 
signal  was  unanswered,  and  he  wandered  through 
the  woods  the  whole  night,  unable  to  find  his 
way  home. 

Early  in  the  morning,  the  Indians,  suspecting 
that  he  had  deserted,  started  in  pursuit,  but 
observing  the  zigzag  manner  in  which  the  young 
woodsman  had  marched,  they  soon  became 
satisfied  of  the  truth,  and  their  anger  was  chang- 
ed to  laughter  and  contempt.  Smith  was  found 
but  his  rifle  was  taken  from  him,  and  a  bow  and 
arrow,  the  weapons  of  a  boy,  were  placed  in  his 
hands.  Though  still  treated  with  undiminished 
kindness  by  all,  yet  it  was  evidently  mingled 


96  CAPTURE   OF   JAMES   SMITH 

with  compassion  and  contempt  for  his  ignorance 
of  the  woods. 

He  was  now  placed  under  the  particular  care 
of  Tontileaugo,  his  adopted  brother,  and  a  re- 
nowned hunter  and  warrior.  With  the  aid  of 
his  directions,  he  soon  learned  all  the  mysteries 
of  hunting.  He  trapped  beaver,  killed  deer, 
bear,  and  buffalo,  with  great  skill  and  readiness, 
and,  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  rose  consider- 
ably in  reputation  The  warriors  were  still 
absent,  and  the  women  and  children  depended 
on  them  entirely  for  subsistence. 

At  times  they  were  three  days  without  food, 
particularly  when  the  snow  became  hard,  and 
the  noise,  which  they  made  in  walking  on  the 
crust  frightened  the  deer,  so  that  they  would  not 
come  within  gunshot.  Their  only  resource  then 
was,  to  seek  for  bear-trees ;  that  is,  for  large 
hollow  trees  in  which  bears  lay  concealed  during 
the  winter.  The  hole  is  generally  from  thirty 
to  fifty  feet  from  the  ground,  and  the  hunters  are 
often  compelled  to  climb  up  and  apply  fire,  in 
order  to  drive  bruin  out,  who  obstinately  maintains 
his  ground,  until  nearly  stifled  with  smoke ;  and 
then,  snuflfling  and  growling,  he  shows  himself 
at  the  mouth  of  the  hole  for  a  little  fresh  air. 
The  hunter  stations  himself  below,  and  fires  upon 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANTA.        97 

him  as  soon  as  he  appears.  Toward  spring,  the 
survivors  generally  return,  and  game  is  then 
killed  in  abundance. 

During  the  months  of  August  and  Septem- 
ber, the  warriors,  as  Smith  found,  were  accus 
tomed  to  abandon  themselves  to  laziness,  dan 
cing,  and  gaming.  They  could  rarely  be  roused 
even  to  hunt,  so  long  as  their  cornfields  fur- 
nished  them  food.  They  might  generally  be 
seen  lying  down  in  idle  contemplation,  dancing 
with  their  squaws,  playing  at  football,  or  en- 
gaged in  a  game  resembling  dice,  of  which  they 
were  immoderately  fond.  War  and  hunting  were 
their  only  serious  occupations,  and  all  the  drudg- 
ery of  Hfe  devolved  upon  the  squaws.  One  day. 
Smith  gave  great  offence  to  the  warriors  by 
taking  a  hoe  into  his  hands,  and  working  with 
the  squaws  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time  when  they 
were  engaged  in  planting  corn.  The  men  repri- 
manded him  with  some  severity  for  his  industry, 
observing  that  it  was  degrading  to  a  warrior  to 
be  engaged  in  labor  like  a  squaw ;  and,  for  the 
future,  he  must  learn  to  demean  himself  more 
loftily,  always  remembering  that  he  was  a  mem- 
ber of  a  warlike  tribe  and  a  noble  family. 

If  a  warrior,  upon  entering  a  strange  wigwam, 
is  not  immediately  invited  to  eat,  he  considers 
12—7 


9o  CAPTURE   OF   JAMES   SMITH 

himself  deeply  aflfronted,  although  he  may  have 
just  risen  from  a  meal  at  home.  It  is  thought 
rude  and  churlish  not  to  set  before  the  guest 
their  greatest  delicacies,  such  as  sugar,  bear's 
oil,  honey,  and  rum.  If  there  is  no  food  of  any 
kind  in  the  house,  which  is  often  the  case,  the 
fact  is  instantly  mentioned,  and  is  at  once  ac- 
cepted as  a  sufficient  apology.  Smith  was  so 
unfortunate  as  to  incur  some  reproach  on  this 
subject  also.  While  he  and  his  adopted  brother, 
Tontileaugo,  were  encamped  in  the  woods,  hunt- 
ing, there  came  a  hunter  of  the  Wyandot  tribe, 
who  entered  their  camp,  faint  and  hungry,  hav- 
ing had  no  success  in  hunting,  and  consequently 
having  fasted  for  several  days. 

Tontileaugo  was  absent  at  the  time,  but  Smith 
received  the  visiter  with  great  hospitality,  as  he 
thought,  and  gave  him  an  abundant  meal  of 
hommony  and  venison.  Shortly  after  the  Wyan- 
dot's departure.  Tontileaugo  returned,  and  Smith 
informed  him  of  the  visit  of  the  stranger  and  of 
his  hospitable  reception.  Tontileaugo  listened 
with  gravity,  and  replied  :  "  And  I  suppose,  of 
course,  you  brought  up  some  of  the  sugar  and 
bear's  oil,  which  was  left  below  in  the  canoe  V 

"  No,"  replied  Smith,  "  I  never  thought  of  it 
It  was  at  too  great  a  distarvje." 


BY    A   TRIBE   OF   INDUNS   IN   PENNSYLVANU.      99 

"  Well,  brother,"  returned  Tontileaugo,  "  you 
have  behaved  just  like  a  Dutchman  !  I  can  ex- 
cuse it  in  you  for  this  time,  as  you  are  young, 
and  have  been  brought  up  among  the  white 
people ;  but  you  must  learn  to  behave  like  a 
warrior,  and  not  be  caught  in  such  little  actions  ! 
Great  actions  alone  can  ever  make  a  great 
man !" 

The  power  of  these  people  in  sustaining  long- 
continued  fatigue  is  extraordinary.  Even  their 
squaws  will  travel  as  fast  as  an  ordinary  horse, 
and  carry  an  incredible  quantity  of  baggage 
upon  their  backs.  In  the  spring  of  1756,  a 
great  quantity  of  game  had  been  killed,  at  a 
considerable  distance  from  the  village ;  and  all 
the  inhabitants,  including  squaws  and  boys,  turn- 
ed out  to  bring  it  home.  Smith  was  loaded 
with  a  large  piece  of  buffalo,  which,  after  car- 
rying two  or  three  miles,  he  found  too  heavy 
for  him,  and  was  compelled  to  throw  down. 
One  of  the  squaws  laughed  heartily,  and  coming 
up,  relieved  him  of  a  large  part  of  it,  adding  it 
to  her  own  pack,  which  was  before  as  large  as 
Smith's.  This,  he  says,  stimulated  him  to  greater 
exertions  than  the  severest  punishment  would 
have  done. 

Their  warriors,  for  a  short  distance,  are  not 


100       CAPTURE  OF  JAMES  SMITH 

swifter  than  the  whites,  but  are  capable  of  sus- 
taining the  exercise  for  an  incredible  length  of 
time.  An  Indian  warrior  can  run  for  twelve  or 
fourteen  hours  without  refreshment,  and,  after  a 
hasty  meal  and  very  brief  repose,  appear  com- 
pletely refreshed  and  ready  for  a  second  course. 
Smith  found  it  more  difficult  to  compete  with 
them  in  this  practice  than  in  any  other.  For,  al- 
though he  could  run  with  great  swiftness  for  a 
few  miles,  he  could  not  continue  such  violent 
exertion  for  a  whole  day.  While  he  and  his 
brother  Tontileaugo  were  encamped  at  a  dis- 
tance from  the  others,  they  were  much  distressed 
from  having  to  pack  their  meat  from  such  a  dis- 
tance ;  and,  as  three  horses  were  grazing  near 
them  —  for  there  was  grass  under  the  snow  — 
Tontileaugo  proposed  that  they  should  run  them 
down,  and  catch  them,  it  having  been  found  im- 
possible to  take  them  in  any  other  way. 

Smith,  having  but  little  relish  for  the  under- 
taking, urged  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
catch  the  horses,  which  were  wild  and  swift. 
But  Tontileaugo  replied,  that  he  had  frequently 
run  down  bear,  deer,  elk,  and  buffalo,  and  be- 
lieved, that  in  the  course  of  a  day  and  night,  he 
could  run  down  any  fourfooted  animal  except 
the  wolf     Smith  observed,  that,  although  deer 


BY   A   TRIBE   OF   INDIANS    IN   PENNSYLVANIA.    10 1 

were  swifter  than  horses  for  a  short  distance,  yet 
that  a  horse  could  run  much  longer  than  either 
the  elk  or  the  buffalo,  and  that  he  was  confident 
that  they  would  tire  themselves  to  no  purpose. 
The  other  insisted  upon  making  the  experiment 
at  any  rate ;  and,  at  daylight,  on  a  cold  day  in 
February,  and  over  a  hard  snow  several  inches 
deep,  the  race  began.  The  two  hunters  stripped 
themselves  to  their  moccasins,  and  started  at  full 
speed.  The  horses  were  in  good  condition  and 
very  wild,  but  contented  themselves  with  running 
in  a  circle  of  six  or  seven  miles  circumference, 
and  would  not  entirely  abandon  their  grazing 
ground. 

At  ten  o'clock.  Smith  had  dropped  consider- 
ably behind,  and  before  eleven,  Tontileaugo  and 
the  horses  were  out  of  sight.  The  Indian  kept 
close  at  their  heels  and  allowed  them  no  time  for 
rest.  Smith,  naked  as  he  was,  and  glowing  with 
exercise,  threw  himself  upon  the  hard  snow,  and 
having  cooled  himself  in  this  manner,  he  remain- 
ed stationary  until  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  horses  again  came  in  view,  their  flanks 
smoking  like  a  seething  kettle,  and  Tontileaugo 
close  behind  them,  running  with  undiminished 
speed.  Smith  being  now  refreshed,  struck  in 
ahead  of  Tontileaugo,  and  compelled  the  horses 


102  CAPTURE    OF   JAMES   SMITH 

to  quicken  their  speed,  while  his  Indian  brother 
from  behind,  encouraged  him  to  do  his  utmost, 
shouting,  "  Chako !  chokoa-nough !"  which  was 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  Pull  away,  my  hearty !" 

Had  Tontileaugo  rested  and  committed  the 
chase  to  Smith  alone  for  some  hours,  and  then, 
in  his  turn,  relieve!  him,  they  might  have  suc- 
i^eeded ;  but  neglecting  this  plan,  they  both  con- 
tinued the  chase  until  nightfall,  when,  perceiving 
that  the  horses  ran  still  with  great  vigor,  they 
despaired  of  catching  them,  and  returned  to  the 
camp,  having  tasted  nothing  since  morning,  and, 
one  of  them  at  least  having  run  about  one 
hundred  miles.  Tontileaugo  was  somewhat 
crest-fallen  at  the  result  of  the  race,  and  grum- 
bled not  a  little ;  but  Smith  assured  him,  that 
they  had  attempted  an  impossibility,  and  he  be- 
came reconciled  to  their  defeat. 

The  discipline  exercised  by  the  Indians  over 
their  children  is  not  remarkably  strict.  Whip- 
ping is  rare  with  them,  and  is  considered  the 
most  disgraceful  of  all  punishments.  Ducking 
in  cold  water  is  the  ordinary  punishment  for 
misbehavior;  and,  as  might  be  expected,  the 
children  are  more  obedient  in  winter  than  in 
summer.  Smith,  during  his  first  winter's  resi- 
dence   among;   them,  was    an   eyewitness  to  a 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.     103 

Circumstance,  which  affords  a  Hvely  example  of 
Indian  manners.  His  brother,  Tontileaugo,  was 
married  to  a  Wyandot  squaw,  who  had  had 
several  t  hildren  by  a  former  husband.  One  of 
these  children  offended  his  stepfather  in  some 
way,  who,  in  requital,  gave  him  the  "  strappado," 
with  a  whip  made  of  buffalo-hide. 

The  discipline  was  quite  moderate,  but  the  lad 
shouted  lustily,  and  soon  brought  out  his  Wyandot 
mother.  She  instantly  took  the  child's  part  with 
great  animation.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  hus- 
band explained  the  offence,  and  protested  that 
he  had  inflicted  a  very  moderate  punishment. 
All  would  not  do.  "  The  child,"  she  said,  "  was 
no  slave,  to  be  scourged  with  a  whip.  His 
father  had  been  a  warrior,  and  a  Wyandot,  and 
his  child  was  entitled  to  honorable  usage.  If  he 
had  offended  his  stepfather,  there  was  cold 
water  enough  to  be  had;  let  him  be  ducked 
until  he  should  be  brought  to  reason,  and  she 
would  not  utter  a  word  of  complaint ;  but  a 
buffalo-hide  was  not  a  weapon  with  which  the 
son  of  a  warrior  should  be  struck ;  his  father's 
spirit  was  frowning  in  the  skies  at  the  degrada- 
tion of  his  child." 

To  this  indignant  remonstrance,  poor  Tonti- 
leaugo listened  with   exemplary  patience,  and 


104  CAPTUEE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

havins^  lit  his  pipe,  strolled  away  in  order  to  give 
his  squaw  an  opportunity  of  cooling  off.  The 
oiFence,  however,  had  been  of  too  serious  a 
nature,  and  his  squaw,  shortly  after  his  departure, 
caught  a  horse,  and,  taking  her  children  with  her, 
rode  off  to  the  Wyandot  village,  about  forty 
miles  distant.  In  the  afternoon,  Tontileaugo  re- 
turned to  his  wigwam,  and  found  no  one  theie 
but  Smith,  an  old  man,  and  a  boy.  He  appeared 
much  troubled  at  his  wife's  refractory  conduct, 
and  finally  followed  to  make  his  peace. 

We  have  seen,  that,  for  losing  himself  in  the 
woods.  Smith  was  degraded  from  the  rank  of  a 
warrior,  and  reduced  to  that  of  a  boy.  Two 
years  afterward,  he  regained  his  rank,  and  was 
presented  with  a  rifle  as  a  reward  for  an  ex- 
hibition of  hardihood  and  presence  of  mind.  In 
company  with  an  old  chief,  and  several  other 
Indians,  he  was  engaged  in  hunting.  A  deep 
snow  was  on  the  ground,  and  the  weather  was 
tempestuous.  On  their  way  home,  a  number  ot 
rackoon  tracks  were  seen  in  the  snow,  and  Smith 
was  directed  to  follow  them  and  observe  where 
they  treed.  He  did  so,  but  they  led  him  off  to 
a  much  greater  distance  than  was  anticipated ; 
and  the  hunters  were  several  miles  ahead  of  him, 
when  he  attempted  to  rejoin  them 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  1NDIA^"S  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.      105 

At  first,  these  tracks  were  quite  plain  in  the 
snow,  and  although  night  approached,  and  the 
camp  was  distant,  Smith  felt  no  anxiety.  But, 
about  dusk,  his  situation  became  critical.  The 
weather  grew  suddenly  much  colder.  The  wind 
blew  a  perfect  hurricane,  and  eddies  of  snow 
blinded  his  eyes,  and  covered  over  the  tracks  of 
his  companions.  He  had  with  him  no  gun, 
neither  flint  nor  steel ;  no  shelter  but  a  blanket, 
and  no  weapon  but  a  tomahawk.  He  plodded 
on  for  several  hours,  ignorant  of  his  route, 
stumbling  over  logs,  and  chilled  with  cold,  until 
the  snow  became  so  deep  as  seriously  to  impede 
his  progress,  and  the  flakes  fell  so  thick  as  to 
render  it  impossible  for  him  to  see  where  he  was 
going.  He  shouted  for  help,  but  no  answer  was 
returned,  and,  as  the  storm  every  moment  in- 
creased in  violence,  he  began  to  think  that  his 
last  hour  was  nigh. 

Providentially,  in  stumbling  on  through  the 
snow,  he  came  to  a  large  sycamore,  with  a  con- 
siderable opening  on  the  windward  side.  He 
hastily  crept  in,  and  found  the  hollow  sufficiently 
large  to  accommodate  him  for  the  night,  if  the 
weather  side  could  be  closed  so  as  to  exclude  the 
snow  and  wind,  which  were  beating  against  it 
with  great  severity 

T 1 


106  CAPTURE   OF   JAMES   SMITH 

Instantly  setting  to  work  with  his  tomahawk; 
Smith  cut  a  number  of  sticks,  which  he  placed 
upright  against  the  hole,  and  piled  brush  against 
it  in  great  quantities,  leaving  a  space  open  for 
himself  to  creep  in.  He  then  broke  up  a  decay- 
ed log,  and  cutting  it  into  small  pieces,  pushed 
them  one  by  one  into  the  hollow  of  the  tree,  and, 
lastly,  crept  in  himself  With  these  loose  pieces 
he  stopped  up  the  remaining  holes  of  his  den, 
until  not  a  chink  was  left  to  admit  the  hght. 
The  snow,  drifting  in  large  quantities,  was  soon 
banked  up  around  the  tree,  completely  sheltering 
him  from  the  storm,  which  still  continued  to  rage 
with  undiminished  fury.  He  then  danced  vio- 
lently in  the  centre  of  his  den  for  two  hours, 
until  he  was  sufficiently  warmed,  when,  wrap- 
ping himself  in  his  blanket,  he  slept  soundly  until 
morning. 

He  awoke  in  utter  darkness,  and  groping 
about,  found  his  door,  which  he  attempted  to 
push  away ;  but  the  snow  had  drifted  against  it  to 
such  a  degree,  that  it  resisted  his  utmost  efforts. 
His  hair  now  began  to  bristle,  and  he  feared  that 
he  had,  with  great  ingenuity,  contrived  to  bury 
himself  alive.  He  lay  down  again  for  several 
hours,  meditating  upon  what  he  should  do,  and 
whether  he  should  not  attempt  to  cut  through  the 


BY    A    TRIBE    OF    INDIANS    IN   PENNSYLVANIA.    107 

tree  with  his  tomahawk ;  but  at  length  he  made 
one  desperate  efibrt  to  push  away  the  door,  and 
succeeded  in  moving  it  several  inches,  when  a 
great  bank  of  snow  fell  in  upon  him  from  above, 
convincing  him  at  once  of  the  immense  quantity 
that  had  fallen.  He  at  length  burrowed  his  way 
into  the  upper  air,  and  found  it  broad  daylight, 
and  the  weather  clear  and  mild.  The  snow  lay 
nearly  four  feet  deep  ;  but  he  was  now  enabled 
to  distinguish  his  way,  and,  by  examining  the 
barks  of  the  trees,  returned  safely  to  camp. 

He  was  received  with  loud  shouts  of  congratu- 
lation and  joy,  but  not  a  single  question  was 
asked  until  he  had  despatched  a  hearty  meal  of 
venison,  hommony  and  sugar. 

An  old  chief,  named  Tecaughnetanego  then 
presented  him  with  his  own  pipe,  and  they  re- 
mained silent  until  Smith  had  smoked.  When 
they  saw  him  completely  refreshed,  the  vener- 
able chief  addressed  him  in  a  mild  and  affectionate 
manner,  and  desired  to  hear  a  particular  account 
of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  passed  the  night. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  until  Smith  concluded 
his  story,  and  then  he  was  greeted  on  all  sides 
with  shouts  of  approbation. 

Tecaughnetanego  rose  and  addressed  him  in  a 
short  speech,  highly  commending  the  couragCj 


108  CAPTURE    OF   JAMES    SMITH 

hardihood,  and  presence  of  mind,  which  the  young 
white  man  had  displayed.  He  was  exhorted  to 
go  on  as  he  had  begun,  and  was  told  that  he 
would  one  day  make  a  very  great  man;  that  all 
his  brothers  rejoiced  in  his  safety,  as  much  as 
they  had  lamented  his  supposed  death;  that  they 
were  preparing  snow-shoes  to  go  in  search  of 
him  when  he  appeared;  but  as  he  had  been 
brought  up  effeminately  among  the  whites,  they 
never  expected  to  see  him  alive.  In  conclusion, 
he  was  promoted  from  the  rank  of  a  boy,  to  that 
of  a  warrior,  and  assured,  that,  when  they  sold 
skins  in  the  spring  at  Detroit,  they  would  pur- 
chase for  him  a  new  rifle — a  promise,  which 
was  faithfully  fulfilled. 

On  one  occasion,  after  the  party,  to  which 
Smith  belonged,  had  sold  their  beaver-skins,  and 
provided  themselves  with  ammunition  and  blan- 
kets, all  their  surplus  cash  was  expended  in  rum, 
which  was  bought  by  the  keg.  They  then  held 
a  council,  in  which  a  few  strong-bodied  hunters 
were  selected  to  remain  sober,  and  protect  the 
rest  during  the  revel,  for  which  they  were  pre- 
paring. Smith  was  courteously  invited  to  get 
drunk,  but  he  refused,  and  was  told  that  he  must 
then  join  the  sober  party,  and  assist  in  keeping 


BY   A   IRIBE   OF    INDIANS   IN   PENNSYLVANIA.    109 

order.  This,  as  he  quickly  found,  was  an  ex- 
tremely dangerous  office. 

Before  engaging  in  the  serious  business  of 
drinking,  the  warriors  carefully  removed  their 
tomahawks  and  knives,  and  took  every  precau- 
tion against  bloodshed.  A  shocking  scene  then 
commenced.  Rum  was  swallowed  in  immense 
quantities,  and  the  wild  passions  of  the  drinkers 
were  stimulated  to  phrensy.  Smith  and  the 
sober  party  were  exposed  to  the  most  imminent 
peril,  and  were  compelled  to  risk  their  lives  every 
moment.  Much  mischief  was  done,  but  no  lives 
were  lost. 

In  the  Ottowa  camp,  where  the  same  infernal 
orgies  were  celebrated,  the  result  was  more  tragi- 
cal. Several  warriors  were  killed  on  the  spot, 
and  others  badly  wounded. 

Tecaughnetanego,  the  veteran  chief,  whom  we 
have  already  mentioned,  appears  to  have  been  a 
favorable  specimen  of  the  Indian  character.  His 
religious  notions  had  a  strong  influence  upon  his 
conduct.  It  so  happened,  that  Smith,  tog^ether 
with  Tontileaugo  and  Tecaughnetanego,  were 
encamped  at  a  great  distance  from  the  rest  of 
the  tribe,  and,  during  the  early  part  of  the  winter, 
they  were  very  successful  in  hunting,  and  were 
abundantly  supphed  with  all  necessaries.     Upon 


110  "APTURE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

the  occasion  of  the  breach  between  Tontileaugo 
and  his  wife,  however,  Smith  and  the  old  chief 
were  left  in  the  woods  with  no  other  company 
than  that  of  Nungany,  a  little  son  of  the  latter, 
not  more  than  ten  years  old.  Tecaughnetanego, 
notwithstanding  his  age  exceeded  sixty,  was  still 
a  skilful  hunter,  and  capable  of  great  exertion 
when  in  good  health;  but,  unfortunately,  he  w^as 
subject  to  dreadful  attacks  of  rheumatism,  during 
which,  in  addition  to  the  most  excruciating  pain, 
he  was  incapable  of  moving  his  limbs  or  help- 
ing himself  in  any  way.  Smith  was  but  a  young 
hunter,  and  Nungany,  totally  useless  except  as  a 
cook ;  but  while  Tecaughnetanego  retained  the 
use  of  his  limbs,  notwithstanding  the  absence  of 
Tontileaugo,  they  killed  game  in  abundance. 

About  the  middle  of  January,  however,  the 
weather  became  excessively  cold,  and  the  old 
chief  was  stretched  upon  the  floor  of  his  wig- 
wam, totally  unable  to  move.  The  whole  care 
of  the  family  now  devolved  upon  Smith,  and  his 
exertions  were  not  wanting.  But,  from  his  youth 
and  inexperience,  he  was  unable  to  provide  as 
plentifully  as  Tontileaugo  had  done,  and  they 
were  reduced  to  a  very  short  allowance. 

The  old  chief,  though  constantly  racked  by 
the  severest  pains,  always  strove  to   entertain 


BY    A    TRIBE    OF    INDIANS    IN    PENNSYLVANIA.    Ill 

Smith  at  night  with  agreeable  conversation,  and 
instructed  him  carefully,  and  repeatedly  in  the 
art  of  hunting.  At  length,  the  snow  became 
hard  and  crusty ;  and  the  noise  of  Smith's  foot- 
steps frightened  the  deer,  so  that,  with  the  utmost 
caution,  he  was  unable  to  get  within  gunshot. 
The  family,  in  consequence,  were  upon  the  verge 
of  starvation. 

One  evening.  Smith  entered  the  hut,  faint  and 
weary,  after  a  hunt  of  two  days,  during  which 
he  had  eaten  nothing.  Tecaughnetanego  had 
fasted  for  the  same  length  of  time,  and  both  had 
been  upon  short  allowance  for  a  week.  Smith 
came  in  very  moodily,  and  laying  aside  his  gun 
and  powderhorn,  sat  down  by  the  fire  in  silence. 
Tecaughnetanego  inquired  mildly  and  calmly, 
what  success  he  had  had.  Smith  answered,  that 
they  must  starve,  as  the  deer  were  so  wild,  that 
he  could  not  get  within  gunshot,  and  it  was  too 
far  to  go  to  any  Indian  settlement  for  food. 

The  old  man  remained  silent  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  in  the  same  mild  tone,  asked  him  if  he 
were  hungry.  Smith  replied,  that  the  keenness 
of  his  appetite  seemed  gone,  but  that  he  felt  sick 
and  dizzy,  and  scarcely  able  to  walk. 

"  I  have  made  Nungany  hunt  up  some  food 


112  CAPTURE    OF    JAMEb    SMITH 

for  you,  brother,"  said  the  old  man  kindly,  and 
bade  the  boy  produce  it. 

This  food  was  nothing  more  than  the  bones 
of  a  fox  and  wildcat,  which  had  been  thrown 
into  the  woods  a  few  days  before,  and  which  the 
buzzards  had  already  picked  almost  bare. 
Nungany  had  collected  and  boiled  them,  until 
the  sinews  were  stripped  of  the  flesh  ;  intending 
them  for  himself  and  the  old  man,  both  of  whom 
were  nearly  famished ;  but  the  latter  had  put 
them  away  for  Smith  in  case  he  should  again 
return  without  food. 

Smith  eagerly  received  this  savory  soup,  and 
swallowed  spoonful  after  spoonful,  with  the 
voracity  of  a  wolf  Tecaughnetanego  waited 
patiently  until  he  had  finished  his  meal,  and  then, 
handing  him  a  pipe,  invited  him  to  smoke.  Little 
Nungany,  in  the  meantime,  removed  the  kettle, 
after  looking  in  vain  for  some  remnant  of  the 
feast  for  his  own  supper.  He  had  watched 
every  mouthful  which  Smith  swallowed,  with 
eager  longing,  but  in  perfect  silence,  and  finding, 
that,  for  the  third  night,  he  must  remain  supper- 
less,  he  sat  down  quietly  at  his  father's  feet,  and 
was  soon  asleep. 

As  soon  as  Smith  had  finished  smoking, 
Tecaughnetanego  asked  him  if  he  felt  refireshed; 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.     113 

and  ijpon  receiving  an  animated  assurance  in  the 
affirmative,  he  addressed  him  mildly  in  these 
words :  — 

"  I  saw,  my  brother,  when  you  first  came  in, 
that  you  had  been  unfortunate  in  hunting,  and 
were  ready  to  despair.  I  should  have  spoken  at 
the  time,  what  I  am  now  about  to  say,  but  I 
have  always  observed,  that  hungry  people  are 
not  in  a  temper  or  condition  to  listen  to  reason. 
You  are  now  refreshed.,  and  can  hsten  patiently 
to  the  words  of  your  e'  der  brother. 

"  I  was  once  young  like  you,  but  am  now  old. 
I  have  seen  sixty  snow^;  fall,  and  have  often  been 
in  a  worse  condition,  from  want  of  food,  than  we 
now  are;  yet  I  have  always  been  supplied,  and 
that  too  zt  the  very  time  I  was  ready  to  despair. 

"  Brother,  you  have  been  brought  up  among 
the  whites,  and  have  not  had  the  same  opportu- 
nities of  seeing  how  wonderfully  Owaneeyo* 
provides  food  for  his  children  in  the  woods  !  He 
sometimes  lets  them  be  in  great  want  to  teach 
them  that  tl\ey  are  dependant  upon  him,  and 
to  remind  them  of  their  own  weakness;  but 
he  never  permits  them  absolutely  to  perish. 

*  In  the  language  of  Smith's  tribe,  the  Great  Spirit  was 
known  by  the  title  of  "  Owaneeyo,"  or  the  Possessor  of 
all  Things. 
12—8 


114  CAPTURE    OF   lAMES    SMITH 

"  Rest  assured  that  your  brother  is  telling  you 
no  lie ;  but  be  satisfied  that  Owaneeyo  will  do 
as  I  have  told  you.  Go  now ;  sleep  soundly ; 
rise  early  in  the  morning  and  go  out  to  hunt. 
Be  strong  and  diligent  —  do  your  best ;  and  trust 
to  Owaneeyo  for  the  rest." 

These  sentiments,  though  from  the  lips  of  an 
untutored  savage,  will  find  a  response  in  the 
bosom  of  a  Christian.  How  often  in  our  extre- 
mest  need,  is  the  hand  of  Providence  unexpect- 
edly interposed  to  guide  and  to  save  us ! 

Smith  was  powerfully  impressed  by  the  old 
man's  remarks,  and  still  more  affected  by  the 
patience  and  firmness,  with  which  he  sustained 
himself  under  the  complicated  suffering  which 
he  experienced.  In  the  morning,  at  daylight, 
the  young  adventurer  seized  his  gun,  and  com- 
menced the  duties  of  the  day  with  great  spirit. 
He  saw  several  deer,  but  the  crashing  of  the 
snowy  rime  alarmed  them  as  heretofore;  and, 
after  hunting  until  noon  without  success,  he  be- 
gan to  suspect  that  Tecaughnetanego  must  have 
been  mistaken,  and  that  they  were  certainly  des- 
tined to  starve.  His  hunger  seemed  rather 
whetted  than  allayed  by  his  ^.xunptuous  repast 
upon  wildcat  bones  the  evening  before,  and  now, 
became  so  ravenous  as  to  divest  him  of  all 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.       115 

and  he  determined  to  run  back  to  Pennsylvania. 
True,  the  intervening  country  was  crowded  with 
hostile  Indians,  but  the  edge  of  the  tomahawk 
was  not  keener  than  that  of  famine;  and  a  sharp, 
quick  death  was  preferable  to  the  slow,  tortur- 
ing ravages  of  starvation. 

Having  hastily  adopted  this  desperate  resolu- 
tion, he  quickened  his  pace,  and  moved  ofFsteadily 
in  the  direction  of  Pennsylvania.  He  had  not 
gone  more  than  seven  or  eight  miles,  before  he 
heard  the  lowing  of  buffalo  in  front,  and,  in  a 
few  minutes,  came  in  view  of  a  noble  herd, 
marching  leisurely  ahead  of  him.  He  ran  with 
great  rapidity  in  such  a  direction  as  to  head 
them,  and,  concealing  himself  in  a  thicket, 
awaited  their  approach. 

The  buffalo-herd  passed  within  a  few  yards  of 
him,  so  that  he  had  an  opportunity  of  selecting  a 
fat  heifer,  which  he  killed  at  the  first  fire.  He 
quickly  struck  fire  from  his  flint,  and  cutting  a 
few  slices  from  the  fleshiest  part,  he  laid  them 
upon  the  coals,  but  could  not  wait  till  they  were 
20oked.  After  gorging  himself  with  raw  beef, 
which,  with  the  exception  of  the  soup  a  la  unld- 
cat  of  the  preceding  night,  he  thought  the  most 
delicious  meal  he  had  ever  tasted,  he  began  to 
be  -'nderly  concerned  for  the  old  man  and  the 


116  CAPTURE    OF   JAMES   SMITH 

boy,  whom  he  had  left  in  a  famishing  condition 
at  the  wigwam. 

His  conscience  reproached  him  for  leaving 
them  to  perish ;  and  he  instantly  loaded  himself 
heavily  with  the  fattest  and  fleshiest  pieces  of  the 
buifalo,  and  having  secured  the  rest  from  the 
wolves,  returned  hastily  homeward.  It  was 
late  at  night  when  he  entered  the  wigwam. 
Tecaughnetanego  received  him  with  the  same 
mild  equanimity,  which  had  hitherto  distinguished 
his  manner,  and  thanked  him  very  aflectionately 
for  the  exertions  he  had  made. 

The  eyes  of  the  famished  boy  were  fastened 
on  the  beef,  as  if  he  would  devour  it  raw.  His 
father  ordered  him  to  hang  on  the  kettle,  and 
cook  some  beef  for  them  all;  but  Smith  said 
that  he  himself  would  cook  for  the  old  man, 
while  Nungany  broiled  some  meat  upon  the 
coals  for  himself  The  boy  looked  eagerly  at 
his  father  for  his  consent,  and  receiving  a  nod 
in  reply,  he  sprung  upon  the  meat  as  a  kite 
would  pounce  upon  a  pullet,  and,  unable  to  wait 
for  the  slow  operation  of  the  fire,  began  to  eat 
it  raw. 

Smith,  in  the  meantime,  had  cut  several  very 
thin  slices  and  placed  them  in  the  kettle  to  boil; 
but  supposing  Tecaughnetanego  as  impatient  a5 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.     117 

ne  had  been,  he  was  about  to  take  them  oflP  the 
fire  before  they  were  thoroughly  cooked,  when 
the  old  man,  in  a  tone  as  calm  and  quiet  as  if  he 
had  not  fasted  for  three  whole  days,  desired  him 
to  "  let  them  be  done  enough."  At  the  same 
time  he  ordered  Nungany,  who  was  still  eating 
like  a  shark,  to  take  no  more  for  the  present,  but 
to  sit  down,  and,  after  a  few  minutes,  he  might 
sup  a  little  broth. 

The  old  man  then  reminded  Smith  of  their 
conversation  the  night  before,  and  of  the  accom 
plishment  of  his  assurance  that  Owaneeyo  would 
provide  for  them  in  their  extremity.  At  length 
he  desired  Smith  to  give  him  the  beef,  observing 
that  it  had  been  boiled  enough ;  and,  as  if  he  had 
reserved  all  his  appetite  for  that  moment,  he  fell 
upon  the  food  with  a  keenness  and  perseverance, 
which  showed  that  the  gifts  of  Owaneeyo  were 
appreciated. 

In  the  morning,  Tecaughnetanego  requested 
Smith  to  return  to  the  spot  where  he  had  killed 
the  buffalo,  and  bring  in  the  rest  of  it  to  the 
camp.  He  accordingly  took  down  his  rifle  and 
entered  the  wood,  intending  to  hunt  on  the  road. 
At  the  distance  of  a  few  miles  from  the  camp, 
he  saw  a  large  elm,  which  had  been  much 
scratched,  and,  perceiving  a  hole  in  it  some  forty 


118  CAPTURE    OF   JAMES   SMITH 

feet  from  the  ground,  he  supposed  that  a  bear 
had  selected  it  for  his  winter-quarters,  and 
instantly  determmed  to  rouse  him  from  his 
slumbers. 

With  his  tomahawk,  he  cut  down  a  sapling 
which  grew  near  the  tree,  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  lodge  it  against  the  den.  He  then  cut  a  long 
pole,  and  tied  a  few  bunches  of  rotten  wood  to 
the  end  of  it.  Taking  it  then  in  his  hand,  he 
climbed  the  sapling,  until  he  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  den ;  and  setting  fire  to  the  rotten  wood, 
put  it  into  the  hollow  as  far  as  he  could  reach. 

Poor  Bruin  soon  began  to  sneeze  and  cough, 
as  if  in  great  trouble;  and  Smith,  rapidly  sliding 
down  the  sapling,  seized  his  gun  at  the  moment 
the  bear  showed  himself.  He  instantly  shot  him, 
and  having  loaded  himself  with  the  hind  quarters, 
he  marched  back  in  high  spirits  to  the  wigwam 
They  were  now  well  provided  with  food  for  a 
week ;  and,  in  a  few  days,  the  snow  thawed  so 
as  to  render  it  easy  to  approach  the  deer ;  and 
during  the  rest  of  the  winter  the  httle  party 
fared  sumptuously. 

Early  in  April,  the  old  Indian's  rheumatism 
abated  so  much  as  to  permit  him  to  walk ;  upon 
which  they  all  three  built  a  bark  canoe,  and 
descended  the   Ollentaugy  nntil  the  water  be- 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.    119 

came  so  shallow  as  to  endanger  their  frail  bark 
among  the  rocks.  Tecaughnetanego  proposed 
to  go  ashore  and  pray  for  rain  to  raise  the  creek 
or  river,  so  as  to  enable  them  to  continue  their 
journey.  Smith  readily  consented,  and  they 
accordingly  disembarked,  drawing  their  canoe 
ashore  after  them.  Here  the  old  Indian  built  a 
"  sweating-house "  in  order  to  purify  himself, 
before  engaging  in  his  religious  duties. 

He  stuck  a  number  of  semi-circular  hoops  in 
the  ground,  and  laid  a  blanket  over  them.  He 
then  heated  a  number  of  large  stones,  and  placed 
them  under  the  blanket,  and  finally  crawled  in 
himself,  with  a  kettle  of  water  in  his  hand, 
directing  Smith  to  draw  down  the  blanket  after 
him,  so  as  almost  entirely  to  exclude  the  ex- 
ternal air.  He  then  poured  the  water  upon  the 
hot  stones,  and  began  to  sing  aloud  with  great 
energy,  the  steam  rising  in  clouds  from  the 
blanket. 

In  this  hot  place  he  continued  for  fifteen 
minutes,  singing  the  whole  time,  and  then  came 
out  dripping  with  perspiration  from  head  to  foot. 
As  soon  as  he  had  taken  breath,  he  began  to 
burn  tobacco,  throwing  it  into  the  fire  by  hand- 
fills,  and  at  the  same  time  repeating  the  follow- 


120  CAPTURE    OF    JAMES    SMITH 

ing  prayer,  in  a  tone  of  deep  and  solemn  earnest- 
ness:— 

"  Oh,  great  Owaneeyo  !  I  thank  thee  that  1 
have  regained  the  use  of  my  legs  once  more ; 
that  I  am  now  able  to  walk  about  and  kill  tur- 
keys, without  feeling  exquisite  pain. 

"  Oh  !  ho  !  ho !  ho  !  Grant  that  my  knees  and 
ankles  may  be  right  well,  that  I  may  be  able,  not 
only  to  walk,  but  to  run  and  jump  logs,  as  I  did 
last  fall ! 

"  Oh !  ho !  ho  !  ho  !  Grant  that,  upon  this 
voyage,  we  may  frequently  kill  bears  as  they 
may  be  crossing  the  Sandusky  and  Scioto. 

"  Oh  !  ho  !  ho  !  ho  !  Grant  that  we  may  also 
kill  a  few  turkeys  to  stew  with  our  bear's 
meat! 

"  Oh !  ho  !  ho  !  ho  !  Grant  that  rain  may 
come  to  raise  the  Ollentaugy  a  few  feet,  that  we 
may  cross  in  safety  down  to  Scioto,  without  spHt- 
ting  our  canoe  upon  the  rocks. 

"  And  now,  0  Great  Owaneeyo !  thou  knowest 
how  fond  I  am  of  tobacc(.,  and  though  I  do  not 
know  when  I  shall  get  any  more,  yet  you  see 
that  I  have  freely  given  up  all  I  have  for  a 
burnt-offering;  therefore,  I  expect  that  thou  wilt 
be  merciful  and  hear  all  my  petitions ;  and  I,  thy 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  iN  PENNSYLVANIA.     121 

servant,  v^ill  thank  thee  and  love  thee  for  aH  thy 
gifts." 

Smith  held  the  old  chief  in  great  veneration, 
and  he  listened  to  the  first  part  of  this  prayer  with 
respect  and  gravity ;  but  when  the  attention  of 
Owaneeyo  was  called  to  the  tobacco,  his  muscles 
gave  way,  and,  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  restrain 
himself,  he  burst  into  a  low,  half-stifled  laugh. 
Riaicuie  is  at  all  times  formidable,  but  particu- 
larly so  in  a  moment  of  enthusiasm  and  sincere 
devotion.  Tecaughnetanego,  was  seriously  of- 
fended, and  rebuked  his  young  companion  in  the 
following  words :  — 

"  Brother,  I  have  somewhat  to  say  to  you ! 
When  you  w^ere  reading  your  books  in  our  vil- 
lage, you  know  I  would  not  let  the  boys  plague 
you,  or  laugh  at  you,  although  we  all  thought  it 
a  foolish  and  idle  occupation  in  a  warrior.  I 
respected  your  feelings  then  ;  but  just  now  I  saw 
you  laughing  at  me. 

"  Brother,  I  do  not  believe  that  you  look  upon 
praying  as  a  silly  custom,  for  you  sometimes  pray 
yourself  Perhaps  you  think  my  mode  of 
praying  foolish,  but  if  so,  would  it  not  be 
more  friendly  to  reason  with  me,  and  mstruct 
me,  than  to  sit  on  that  log  and  laugh  at  an  old 
man  7" 


122        CAPTURE  OF  JAMES  SMITH 

Smith  apologized  with  great  earnestness,  de* 
daring  that  he  respected  and  loved  him  sincerely. 
The  old  man,  without  saying  a  word,  handed 
him  his  pipe  as  a  token  of  friendship,  although 
it  was  filled  only  with  willow  bark.  The  little 
offence  was  soon  forgotten. 

A  few  days  afterward,  there  came  a  fine  rain, 
and  the  Ollentaugy  was  soon  sufficiently  deep  to 
admit  of  their  passage  in  safety.  After  reaching 
the  Sandusky,  they  killed  four  bears  and  a  great 
many  wild  turkeys.  Tecaughnetanego  gravely 
assured  Smith,  that  this  was  a  clear  and  direct 
answer  to  his  prayer. 

In  the  summer  of  1759,  and  in  the  fourth  year 
of  his  captivity,  or  rather  adoption.  Smith,  ac- 
companied by  Tecaughnetanego  and  Nungany^ 
sailed  in  a  bark  canoe  down  the  St.  Lawrence 
as  far  as  Montreal. 

Here  he  privately  left  his  Indian  companions, 
and  went  on  board  a  French  transport,  which 
he  had  heard  was  about  to  sail,  with  a  number 
of  English  prisoners  on  board,  intended  to  be 
exchanged.  After  having  been  detained  some 
time  in  Montreal,  in  consequence  of  the  English 
fleet  being  below,  he  was  at  length  exchanged, 
and  returned  to  his  native  country.  His  family 
and  sweetheart  received  him  with  great  joy ;  but 


BY  A  TRIBE  OF  INDIANS  IN  PENNSYLVANU.     123 

to  his  inexpressible  mortification,  poor  Smith 
lound  that  the  latter  had  been  married  only  a 
few  days  before  his  arrival. 


124       THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 


CHAPTER  VIL 

THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS  AND  DANIEL  BOONK. 

The  first  successful  attempt  to  explore  the 
Kentucky  country  was  made  by  John  Finley,  a 
backwoodsman  of  North  Carolina,  in  1767 
He  was  attended  by  a  few  companions  as  adven- 
turous as  himself,  whose  names  have  escaped  the 
notice  of  history.  They  passed  over  the  Cumber- 
land, and  through  the  intermediate  country  to  the 
Kentucky  river,  and  penetrated  the  beautiful  val- 
ley of  the  Elkhorn. 

The  return  of  the  hunters  to  North  Carolina, 
created  a  general  sensation.  The  glowing  ac 
counts  they  gavtf-  of  the  country  they  had  visiteu. 
of  its  extraordinary  beauty,  its  surpassing  fer- 
tility, and  above  all,  of  the  inexhaustible  abun- 
dance of  wild  game  which  it  furnished,  fired  the 
hearts  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  frontier.  After  a 
twelvemonth  or  more  had  elapsed,  Finley's  roving 
habits  conducted  him  to  the  Yadkin  river  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  residence  of  Daniel  Boone,  wbo^ 


AND   DANIEL    BOONE.  125 

life,  although  he  was  then  but  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  had  akeady  developed  those  extraordi- 
nary traits  of  character,  by  which  he  was  after- 
ward distinguished. 

The  simple  narrative  of  Finley's  adventures, 
was  sufficient  to  inflame  the  imagination  of 
Boone,  and  to  fix  his  resolution.  The  two  back- 
woodsmen agreed  to  explore  Kentucky  together. 
In  the  ensuing  spring  they  set  off  on  their  jour- 
ney. 

"  It  was  on  the  first  of  May,  1769,"  says 
Boone  himself,  "that  I  resigned  my  domestic 
happiness,  and  left  my  family  and  peaceable 
habitation  on  the  Yadkin  river  in  North  Caro- 
lina, to  wander  through  the  wilderness  of  Amer- 
ica, in  quest  of  the  country  of  Kentucke,  in 
company  with  John  Finley,  John  Stuart,  Joseph 
Holden,  James  Mooney,  and  William  Cool." 

On  the  seventh  of  June,  this  little  party,  with 
no  other  equipage  than  their  knapsacks,  and  no 
weapons  but  their  rifles,  reached  Red  river,  and, 
from  a  neighboring  eminence,  surveyed  the  vast 
and  beautiful  plain  of  Kentucky.  Here  they 
built  a  cabin  and  remained,  in  a  great  measure 
stationary,  until  December,  killing  a  great  quan- 
tity of  game  immediately  around  them.      Im- 


126      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

mense  herds  of  buffalo  ranged  through  the 
forest  in  every  direction,  feeding  upon  the  leaves 
of  the  cane,  or  the  rich  and  spontaneous  fields 
of  clover. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  December,  as  Boone 
and  Stuart  rambled  on  the  banks  of  the  Ken- 
tucky river,  a  company  of  Indians  rushed  out 
upon  them  from  a  thick  canebrake,  with  a  rap- 
idity which  rendered  escape  impossible.  They 
were  almost  instantly  seized,  disarmed,  and  made 
prisoners. 

After  seven  days  of  captivity  and  confinement, 
their  captors  encamped  in  a  thick  canebrake, 
and,  having  built  a  large  fire,  lay  down  to  rest. 
The  Indians,  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch,  were 
weary  and  neghgent,  and,  about  midnight,  Boone, 
who  had  not  closed  an  eye,  ascertained  from  the 
deep  breathing  all  around  him,  that  the  whole 
party,  including  Stuart,  were  in  a  sound  sleep. 
Gently  and  gradually  extricating  himself  from 
the  Indians,  who  lay  near  him,  he  walked 
cautiously  to  the  spot  where  Stuart  lay,  and 
having  succeeded  in  awakening  him,  without 
alarming  the  rest,  he  briefly  exhorted  him  to  rise, 
make  no  noise,  and  follow  him.  Stuart,  although 
ignorant  of  the  design,  and  suddenly  roused  from 
sleep,  fortunately  obeyed  with  equal  silence  and 


AND    DAJ^IEL    BOONE.  127 

celerity,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  they  were  beyond 
hearing. 

Rapidly  traversing  the  forest  by  the  light  of 
the  stars  and  the  barks  of  the  trees,  they  ascer- 
tained the  direction  in  which  the  camp  lay ;  but, 
upon  reaching  it  the  next  day,  to  their  great 
grief,  they  found  it  deserted  and  plundered.  Noth- 
ing remained  to  disclose  the  fate  of  their  com- 
panions. Neither  history  nor  tradition  furnishes 
any  information  in  regard  to  it  — 

"  Nor  trace,  nor  tidings  of  their  doom  declare, 
Where  lived  their  grief,  or  perished  their  despair.'* 

Finley  was  one  of  them,  and  his  name  appears 
no  more  in  the  annals  of  the  region,  of  which  he 
was  one  of  the  earliest  pioneers. 

"  About  this  time,"  says  Boone,  "my  brother, 
Squire  Boone,  and  another  adventurer,  who  came 
to  explore  the  country^  shortly  after  us,  were 
wandering  through  the  forest,  and  accidentally 
found  our  camp."  Soon  after  this  fortunate 
accession,  John  Stuart  was  shot  and  scalped  by 
the  savages ;  and  the  "  other  adventurer  "  was 
benighted  in  a  hunting  excursion,  and,  while 
encamped  in  the  woods  alone,  was  attacked  and 
devoured  by  wolves 


128      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

The  brothers  were  now  left  alone.  The  winter 
was  far  advanced,  and  it  was  necessary  that 
something  should  be  done  to  protect  them  from 
the  weather.  They  built  a  small  cottage  of 
such  materials  as  their  tomahawks  could  supply, 
and  occupied  it,  without  molestation,  until  the 
spring.  Then  the  intrepid  hunters  found  them- 
selves in  a  very  serious  dilemma.  Their  store 
of  ammunition  was  nearly  exhausted,  and  their 
rifles  were  their  only  means  of  security  and  sup- 
port. Without  them  they  must  starve,  or  fall 
defenceless  under  the  hatchets  of  the  savages. 
It  was  resolved  that  Squire  Boone  should  revisit 
the  settlements,  and  return  with  all  possible  ex- 
pedition to  his  brother's  camp  bringing  horses 
and  ammunition.  The  brothers  exchanged  a 
mournful  leave,  and,  in  a  few  days,  Daniel  Boone 
was  a  solitary  wanderer  in  the  wilderness  of 
Kentucky. 

The  wild  and  natural  grandeur  of  the  country 
around,  where  not  a  tree  had  been  cut,  nor  a 
house  erected,  was  an  inexhaustible  source  of 
admiration  and  delight  to  the  isolated  hunter 
He  says  himself,  that  some  of  the  most  dehghtful 
moments  of  his  life,  were  spent  in  those  lonely 
rambles.  The  utmost  caution  was  necessary  to 
avoid  the  savages,  and  scarcely  less  to  escape 


AND    DANIEL    BOONE.  129 

the  ravenous  hunger  of  the  wolves,  that  prowled 
nightly  around  him  in  immense  numbers.  He 
was  compelled  frequently  to  shift  his  lodging, 
and,  by  undoubted  signs,  saw  that  the  Indians 
had  repeatedly  visited  his  hut,  during  his  absence. 
He  sometimes  lay  in  canebrakes,  without  fire, 
and  heard  the  yells  of  the  Indians  around  him. 
Fortunately,  however,  he  never  encountered 
them. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  July,  1770,  his 
brother  returned  with  a  supply  of  ammunition , 
and,  with  a  hardihood  almost  unexampled,  they 
ranged  through  the  country  in  every  direction, 
and  without  injury,  until  March,  1771.  They 
then  returned  to  North  Carolina,  where  Daniel 
rejoined  his  family  after  an  absence  of  nearly 
three  years,  during  the  whole  of  which  time  he 
had  never  tasted  bread  or  salt,  nor  seen  the  face 
of  a  single  white  man,  with  the  exception  of  his 
brother,  and  the  two  friends, who  had  been  killed. 
He  now  determined  to  sell  his  farm,  and  to  re- 
move with  his  family  to  the  wilderness  of  Ken- 
tucky. Accordingly,  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  Sep- 
tember, 1771,  having  disposed  of  all  the  property 
which  he  could  not  take  with  him,  he  bade  fare- 
well to  his  friends,  and  commenced  his  journey 
to  the  west 
12—9 


130       THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

A  number  of  milch-cows,  and  horses,  laden 
with  a  few  necessary  household-utensils,  formed 
the  whole  of  his  baggage.  His  wife  and  children 
were  mounted  on  horseback,  and  accompanied 
him,  every  one  regarding  them  as  devoted  to 
destruction.  In  Powell's  valley  they  were  joined 
by  five  more  families,  and  forty  men  well  armed. 
Encouraged  by  this  accession  of  strength,  they 
advanced  with  renewed  confidence,  but  had  soon 
a  severe  warning  of  the  dangers  which  awaited 
them.  When  near  Cumberland  mountain,  their 
rear  was  suddenly  attacked  with  great  fury  by  a 
scouting  party  of  Indians  and  thrown  into  con- 
siderable confusion. 

The  party,  however,  soon  rallied,  and  being 
accustomed  to  Indian  warfare,  returned  the  fire 
with  such  spirit  and  effect,  that  the  Indians  were 
repulsed  with  slaughter.  Their  own  loss,  how- 
ever, had  been  severe.  Six  men  w^ere  killed 
upon  the  spot,  and  one  wounded.  Among  the 
killed  was  Boone's  eldest  son,  to  the  unspeakable 
affliction  of  his  family.  The  disorder  and  grief 
occasioned  by  this  rough  reception,  seem  to  have 
affected  the  emigrants  deeply,  as  they  instantly 
retraced  their  steps  to  the  settlements  on  Clinch 
river,  forty  miles  from  the  scene  of  action.  Here 
they  remained  until  June,  1774,  probably,  at  the 


AND   DANIEL    BOO'ME.  131 

request  of  the  women,  who   must   have   been 
greatly  alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  traversing  a 
country,  upon  the  skirts  of  which  they  had  wit 
nessed  so  keen  and  bloody  a  contest. 

It  was  under  the  auspices  of  Colonel  Richard 
Henderson,  that  Boone's  next  visit  to  Kentucky 
was  made.  Leaving  his  family,  he  set  out  at 
the  head  of  a  few  men,  to  mark  out  a  road  for 
the  pack-horses  or  wagons  of  Henderson's  party 
This  laborious  and  dangerous  duty,  he  executed 
w4th  his  usual  fortitude  and  success,  until  he 
came  within  fifteen  miles  of  the  spot,  where 
Boonesborough  afterward  was  built.  Here,  on 
the  twenty  second  of  March,  his  small  party  was 
attacked  by  the  Indians,  and  suffered  a  loss  ol 
four  men  killed  and  wounded.  The  Indians, 
although  repulsed  with  loss  in  this  affair,  re- 
newed the  attack  with  equal  fury  the  next  day, 
and  killed  and  wounded  five  more  of  his  party. 
On  the  first  of  April,  the  sur^vdvors  began  to 
build  a  small  fort  on  the  Kentucky  river,  after- 
ward called  Boonesborough,  and,  on  the  fourth, 
they  were  again  attacked  by  the  Indians,  and 
lost  another  man.  The  Indians  seemed  enraged 
to  madness  at  the  prospect  of  having  houses 
built  upon  their  hunting-grounds ;  but  the  bold 
pioneers,  n  )twithstanding  the  harassing  attacks 


132       THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

to  which  they  were  exposed,  prosecuted  theii 
labors  with  dihgence,  and,  on  the  fourteenth,  the 
fort  was  completed. 

Boone  instantly  returned  to  Clinch  river  for 
his  family,  determined  to  bring  them  with  him 
at  every  risk.  This  was  accomplished ;  and 
Mrs.  Boone  and  her  daughters  were  the  first 
white  women  who  stood  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Kentucky  river,  as  Boone  himself  had  been  the 
first  white  man  who  ever  built  a  cabin  upon  the 
borders  of  the  state.  The  first  house,  however, 
which  ever  stood  in  the  interior  of  Kentucky,  was 
erected  at  Harrodsburgh  in  the  year  1774,  by 
James  Harrod,  who  conducted  to  that  place  a 
party  of  hunters  from  the  banks  of  the  Monon- 
gahela.  This  settlement  was,  therefore,  a  few 
months  older  than  Boonesborough.  Both  soon 
became  distinguished,  as  the  only  places  in  which 
hunters  and  surveyors  could  find  security  from 
the  fury  of  the  Indians. 

Within  a  few  weeks  after  the  arrival  of  Mrs. 
Boone  and  her  daughters,  the  infant  colony  was 
reinforced  by  the  addition  of  three  more  families, 
at  the  head  of  which  were  Mrs.  McGary,  Mrs. 
Hogan,  and  Mrs.  Denton.  Boonesborough, 
however,  was  the  central  object  of  Indian  hos- 
tilities ;   and,  scarcely  had  the  families  become 


AND   DANIEL    BOOXE.  J  33 

domesticated  in  their  new  possessions,  when 
they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  a  party  of 
Indians,  and  lost  one  of  their  garrison. 

A  much  more  alarming  incident  occurred  in 
July,  1775.  A  daughter  of  Boone,  and  a  Miss 
Calloway,  were  amusing  themselves  in  the  imme- 
diate neighborhood  of  the  fort,  when  a  party  of 
Indians  rushed  from  a  canebrake,  and,  intercept- 
ing their  return,  took  them  prisoners.  The 
screams  of  the  terrified  girls  quickly  alarmed  the 
family.  Boone  hastily  collected  a  party  of  eight 
men,  and  pursued  the  enemy.  So  much  time, 
however,  had  been  lost,  that  the  Indians  had  got 
several  miles  the  start  of  them.  The  pursuit 
was  urged  through  the  night  wdth  great  keen- 
ness by  woodsmen  capable  of  following  a  trail 
at  all  times.  On  the  following  day  they  came 
up  with  the  fugitives,  and  fell  upon  them  so 
suddenly  and  so  furiously  as  to  allow  them  no 
leisure  lor  tomahawking  their  prisoners.  The 
girls  were  rescued,  without  having  sustained  any 
Dther  injury,  than  excessive  fright  and  fatigue. 
The  Indians  lost  two  men,  while  Boone's  party 
were  uninjured. 

In  January,  1778,  accompanied  by  thirty  men> 
Boone  went  to  the  Blue  Licks  to  make  salt  for 
the  different  stations;    and  op  tlje  seventh  of 


134      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

February  following,  while  out  hunting,  he  feli 
in  with  one  hundred  and  two  Indian  warriors, 
on  their  march  to  attack  Boonesborough.  He 
instantly  fled,  but,  being  upward  of  fifty  years 
old,  w^as  unable  to  contend  with  the  fleet 
young  men  who  pursued  him,  and  was  a  second 
time  taken  prisoner.  He  was  treated  with  kind- 
ness and  led  back  to  the  Licks,  where  his  men 
were  still  encamped.  Here  his  whole  party,  to 
the  number  of  twenty-seA^en,  surrendered  them- 
selves, upon  promise  of  hfe  and  good  treatment, 
both  of  which  conditions  were  faithfully  observed. 
Boone  and  his  party  were  conducted  to  the 
old  town  of  ChilHcothe,  where  they  remained 
until  the  following  March.  No  journal  was 
written  during  this  period,  by  either  Boone  or  his 
companions.  We  are  only  informed,  that  his 
mild  equanimity  and  fortitude  wrought  power- 
fully upon  the  Indians;  that  he  was  adopted  into 
a  family,  and  uniformly  treated  with  the  utmost 
affection.  One  fact  illustrates  Boone's  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature.  At  the  various  shooting 
matches  to  which  he  was  invited,  he  took  care 
not  to  beat  his  savage  friends  too  often.  He 
knew  that  no  feeling  is  more  painful  than  that 
of  inferiority,  and  that  the  most  effectual  way  of 
keeping  them  in  good  humor  with  him,  was  to 


AND   DANIEL    BOONE  135 

keep  them  in  good  humor  with  themseh  es.  He. 
therefore,  only  shot  well  enough,  to  make  it  an 
honor  to  beat  him,  and  found  himself  a  universal 
favorite. 

On  the  tenth  of  March,  1778,  Boone  was  con- 
ducted to  Detroit,  when  Governor  Hamilton  him- 
self offered  one  hundred  pounds  sterling  for  his 
ransom ;  but  so  great  was  the  affection  of  the 
Indians  for  their  prisoner,  that  it  was  positively 
refused.  Boone's  anxiety  on  account  of  his  wifie 
and  children  w^as  incessant,  and  the  more  intoler- 
able as  he  dared  not  excite  the  suspicions  of  his 
captors  by  any  indication  of  a  wish  to  return 
home. 

The  Indians  were  now  preparing  for  a  violent 
attack  upon  the  settlements  in  Kentucky.  Early 
in  June,  four  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  choicest 
warriors  were  ready  to  march  against  Boones- 
borough,  painted  and  armed  in  a  fearful  manner. 
Alarmed  at  these  preparations,  he  determined  to 
make  his  escape  He  hunted  and  shot  with  the 
Indians  as  usual,  until  the  morning  of  the  six- 
teenth of  June,  when,  taking  an  early  start,  he 
left  ChiUicothe  and  directed  his  steps  to  Boones- 
borough.  The  distance  exceeded  one  hundred 
and  sixty  miles,  but  he  performed  it  in  four  days, 
during  w^hich  he  ate  only  of^  meal.    He  appeared 


136      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

before  the  garrison  like  one  risen  from  the  dead. 
He  found  the  fortress  in  a  bad  state,  and  lost  no 
time  in  rendering  it  more  capable  of  defence. 
He  repaired  the  flanks,  gates,  and  posterns,  formed 
double  bastions,  and  completed  the  whole  in  ten 
days. 

On  the  eighth  of  August,  the  enemy  appeared. 
They  consisted  of  about  five  hundred  warriors, 
and  were  commanded  by  Captain  Duquesne  and 
eleven  other  Frenchmen,  in  addition  to  their  own 
chiefs.  The  British  colors  were  displayed,  and 
an  officer,  with  a  flag,  was  sent  to  demand  the 
surrender  of  the  fort,  with  a  promise  of  quartei 
and  good  treatment  in  case  of  compliance,  and 
a  threat  of  the  "  hatchet"  in  the  event  of  a  storm. 
Two  days  were  allowed  them  to  consider  the 
proposition,  during  which,  Boone  made  active 
preparations  for  resistance,  by  bringing  cattle 
into  the  fort  and  securing  the  horses.  The  gal- 
lant pioneers  resolved  to  defend  their  position 
to  the  last. 

Boone  then  appeared  at  the  gate  of  the  for- 
tress, and  communicated  to  Captain  Duquesne 
the  resolution  of  his  men.  The  Canadian  was 
evidently  much  chagrined  at  the  answer;  and 
insidiously  requested  that  nine  of  the  principal 
inhabitants  of  the  fort  would  come  out  into  the 


AND    DANIEL    BOONE.  137 

plain  and  treat  with  him — he  promising  them 
protection  and  safety.  Here  Boone's  habitua. 
sagacity  seemed  to  forsake  him.  He  compHed 
with  the  Canadian's  proposal,  and  came  forth 
himself,  attended  by  eight  of  his  men.  The  In- 
dians crowded  around  them.  A  mock  treaty 
was  proposed  by  Duquesne  and  concluded ;  when, 
after  many  pretty  periods  about  the  "  hienfai- 
sance  et  humanite"  which  should  accompany 
the  warfare  of  civilized  beings,  the  wily  Cana- 
dian at  length  informed  Boone,  that  it  was  a 
custom  with  the  Indians,  upon  the  conclusion  ol 
a  treaty  with  the  whites,  for  two  warriors  to 
take  hold  of  the  hand  of  each  white  man. 

Boone  thought  this  rather  a  singular  custom, 
but  there  was  no  time  to  dispute  about  etiquette, 
particularly,  as  he  could  not  be  more  in  their 
power  than  he  already  was ;  so  he  signified  his 
willingness  to  conform  to  the  Indian  mode  of 
cementing  friendship.  Instantly  two  warriors 
approached  every  white  man,  with  the  word 
"  brother"  upon  their  hps,  but  a  very  different 
expression  in  their  eyes,  and,  grapphng  them 
with  violence,  attempted  to  bear  them  off.  The 
Americans,  however,  were  on  the  alert,  and 
dashmg  their  assailants  to  the  ground,  they  ran 
to  the  fort  under  a  heavy  fire,  which  fortunately 


138       THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

wounded  only  one  man.     This  puerile  artifice 
utterly  failed. 

The  attack  upon  the  fort  instantly  commenced ; 
and  the  siege  lasted  nine  days,  during  which,  an 
almost  incessant  firing  was  kept  up.  On  the 
twentieth  of  August,  the  enemy  retired  with  a 
loss  of  thirty-seven  killed  and  a  great  many 
wounded.  The  loss  of  the  garrison  was,  two 
men  killed  and  four  wounded.  This  affair  was 
highly  creditable  to  the  spirit  and  skill  of  the 
pioneers. 

In  the  autumn  of  1780,  Boone,  accompanied 
by  his  brother,  made  another  visit  to  the  Blue 
Licks,  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  salt.  This 
spot  seemed  to  have  been  fatal  to  Boone.  Here 
he  had  once  been  taken  prisoner,  and  here  he 
lost  his  youngest  son,  and  witnessed  the  slaughter 
of  many  of  his  dearest  friends.  His  present 
visit  was  not  free  from  calamity.  They  were 
encountered  by  a  party  of  Indians,  and  his 
brother,  who  had  shared  with  him  many  priva- 
tions, and  been  his  faithful  companioii  for  many 
years  of  toil  and  danger,  was  killed  and  scalped 
before  his  eyes. 

Unable  either  to  prevent,  or  avenge  his  death, 
Boone  was  compelled  to  fly,  and,  by  his  superior 
knowledge  of  the  country,  contrived  to  elude  his 


AND   DAN.TEL    BOONE.  139 

pursuers.  They  followed  his  trail,  however,  by 
the  scent  of  a  dog,  that  pressed  him  closely,  and 
prevented  his  concealing  himself.  This  was  one 
of  the  most  critical  moments  of  his  life,  but  his 
nabitual  coolness  and  presence  of  mind  enabled 
him  to  meet  it.  He  halted  until  the  dog,  baying 
loudly  upon  his  trail,  came  within  gunshot,  when 
he  deliberately  turned  and  shot  him  dead.  The 
thickness  of  the  woods  and  the  approach  of 
darkness  then  enabled  him  to  escape. 

In  the  spring  of  1782,  a  party  of  twenty-five 
Wyandots  secretly  approached  Estill's  station, 
and  comm  tted  shocking  outrages.  Entering  a 
cabin,  they  tomahawked  and  scalped  a  woman  and 
her  two  daughters.  The  neighborhood  was  in- 
stantly alarmed.  Captain  Estill  speedily  col- 
lected a  body  of  twenty-five  men,  and  pursued 
the  hostile  trail  with  great  rapidity.  He  came 
up  with  the  savages  on  Hinkston  fork  of  Lick- 
mg,  immediately  after  they  had  crossed  it ;  and  a 
most  Fcvere  and  desperate  conflict  ensued. 

Estill,  unfortunately,  sent  six  of  his  men  under 
Lieutenant  Miller,  to  attack  the  enemy's  rear. 
The  Indian  leader  immediately  availed  himself 
of  this  diminution  of  force,  rushed  upon  the 
weakens  1  line  of  his  adversaries,  and  compelled 
him  to  g  re  way      A  total  route  ensued      Cap- 


140       THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS  ' 

tain  Estill  was  killed,  together  with  his  gallam 
Ueutenant,  South.  Four  men  were  wounded 
and  fortunately  escaped.  Nine  fell  under  the 
tomahawk,  and  were  scalped.  The  Indians  also 
suffered  severely,  and  are  believed  to  have  lost 
half  of  their  warriors. 

Seven  years  of  incessant  strife  and  hardship 
had  now  elapsed  since  the  pioneers  had  entered 
the  wilderness,  to  which  the  Kentuckians  have 
given  the  name  of  "  the  dark  and  bloody  ground." 
Scarcely  had  they  recovered  from  the  shock  of 
Estill's  disaster,  when  they  were  threatened  with 
new  and  appalhng  dangers,  in  the  sudden  incur- 
sion of  a  larger  force  than  had  at  any  time 
threatened  the  settlements.  It  consisted  of  a 
combination  of  Shawnese,  Wyandots,  Miamis, 
and  Pottawatamies,  stimulated  by  the  counsels 
of  Simon  Girty,  an  abandoned  ^vhite  renegade. 

Girty  was  an  American  by  birth.  He  had 
lived  in  Pennsylvania,  and  having  been  thwarted 
m  his  schemes  of  promotion  and  aggrandizement, 
he  abandoned  civilized  society,  and,  swelhng  with 
indignation  and  projects  of  revenge,  joined  the 
Wyandots,  one  of  the  most  ferocious  of  the  fron- 
tier tribes.  He  became  an  Indian  by  adoption, 
acquired  their  habits,  and  goaded  them  to  deeds 
of  inhuman  atrocity 


AND    DANIEL    BOONE.  141 

Such  was  the  man  who  conducted  the  swarm 
of  northern  savages  on  this  expedition.  They 
marched  with  such  celerity  and  caution,  that 
their  movements  were  wholly  unobserved,  until, 
on  the  night  of  the  fourteenth  of  August,  Bry- 
ant's station  was  surrounded  by  an  army  of  about 
six  hundred  warriors.  The  fort,  consisting  of 
about  forty  cabins,  placed  in  parallel  lines,  stands 
upon  a  gentle  rise  on  the  southern  bank  of  the 
Elkhorn,  a  few  paces  to  the  right  of  the  road 
from  Maysville  to  Lexington. 

Girty  concealed  a  considerable  body  of  Indi- 
ans near  the  spring  which  supphed  the  station 
wit'h  water.  Another  party  assumed  a  position 
in  full  view  of  the  fort.  At  dawn  of  day,  the 
garrison,  who  had  been  engaged  in  preparing  to 
march  to  the  relief  of  a  neighboring  station,  open- 
ed their  gates,  when  a  sudden  firing  announced 
the  presence  of  the  enemy.  The  gates  were  in- 
stantly closed.  All  ran  hastily  to  the  picketing 
and  saw  in  full  view  a  small  party  of  Indians, 
firing,  yelling,  and  making  the  most  furious  ges- 
tures. The  more  wary  members  of  the  garri- 
son immediately  concluded  that  it  was  a  decoy 
party,  the  object  of  which  was  to  lure  the 
garrison  from  the  defence  of  the  fort,  in  order  to 


l42  THE    KEISTUCKY    ADVENTURERS 

place  it  in  the  power  of  the  main  body  whicfi 
lay  concealed. 

The  gieatest  distress  of  the  occupants  of  the 
fort,  arose  from  the  prospect  of  suffering  for 
water.  Their  leaders  felt  satisfied  that  a 
powerful  part}^  were  in  ambuscade.  They 
summoned  the  women,  and  explained  the  cir- 
cumstances of  their  situation.  Were  the  men 
to  go  down  to  the  spring,  the  Indians  would  sus- 
pect that  their  ambuscade  was  discovered,  but 
the  appearance  of  the  women  would  quiet  their 
suspicion ;  and  the  savages  would  not  unmask 
themselves  for  the  purpose  of  doing  them  harm 

Some  of  the  boldest  of  the  women  readily 
acceded  to  the  proposal,  and  at  length  they  all 
rallied  their  courage,  and  marched  down  in  a 
body  to  the  spring,  within  point-blank  shot  of 
more  than  five  hundred  Indian  warriors  !  Not 
a  shot  was  fired.  The  party  were  permitted  to 
fill  their  buckets,  one  after  another,  without  in- 
terruption; and,  although  their  steps  became 
quicker  and  quicker  on  their  return,  and,  when 
near  the  gate,  degenerated  into  a  rather  unmili- 
tary  celerity,  attended  with  some  little  crowding, 
in  passing  the  gate,  yet  not  more  than  one  fifth 
of  the  water  was  spilt. 

Being  now  amply  supplied  with  water  thir- 


AND   DANIEL   BOONE.  143 

teen  young  men  were  sent  out  to  attack  the 
decoy-party,  with  orders  to  fire  with  great 
rapidity,  but  not  to  pursue  the  enemy  too  far  ; 
while  the  remainder  of  the  garrison,  consisting 
of  not  more  than  thirty  men,  would  stand  in 
readiness  to  fire  upon  the  ambuscade.  The 
manoeuvre  succeeded.  Girty  supposed  that  the 
whole  garrison  had  quitted  the  fort;  and,  spring- 
ing up  at  the  head  of  his  five  hundred  warriors, 
he  rushed  with  precipitate  fury  to  the  nearest 
gate.  He  was  received  with  well-directed 
volleys  of  rifle-balls,  which  made  great  havoc 
among  the  Indians.  The  renegade  saw  that  he 
himself  was  the  dupe  of  an  artifice,  and  his  army, 
struck  with  consternation,  fled,  uttering  wild 
cries.  The  gallant  young  backwoodsmen,  who 
had  rallied  forth  to  attack  the  decoy-party,  re- 
turned in  high  spirits,  and  were  joyfully  welcom 
ed  by  their  companions. 

The  siege  was  now  commenced  and  prosecuted 
without  disguise.  Upon  the  first  appearance  of 
the  Indians  in  the  morning,  two  of  the  garrison 
had  been  mounted  upon  fleet  steeds,  and  sent  at 
full  speed  to  Lexington  to  demand  re-enforce- 
ments. At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  a  re- 
enforcement  of  fifty  men,  some  on  horseback  and 
some  on  foot,  started  to  assist  the  besieged.  The 


144      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

Indians  were  apprized  that  they  were  on  the 
march,  and  prepared  to  receive  them. 

The  road  from  Lexington  ran  alongside  of  a 
fence,  which  formed  one  line  of  enclosure  to  a 
large  field  of  corn.  Opposite  to  it  was  a  dense 
forest.  On  each  side  of  the  road  a  detachment 
of  three  hundred  Indians  lay  concealed,  awaiting 
the  arrival,  and  confident  of  the  sacrifice  of  the 
whole  re-enforcement.  The  attack  upon  the  fort 
had  subsided  when  the  horsemen  came  in  sight. 
Not  an  Indian  was  to  be  discovered. 

Seeing  no  enemy,  and  hearing  no  noise,  the 
horsemen  entered  the  avenue.  Instantly  they 
were  saluted  with  a  shower  of  rifle-balls.  Putting 
spurs  to  their  horses  they  dashed  on  amid  vol- 
leys of  buKets  from  both  lines  of  the  ambuscade, 
which  were  not  more  than  thirty  feet  apart. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  they  reached  the  gate 
without  the  loss  of  a  man. 

The  remainder  of  the  party  being  on  foot, 
were  not  so  fortunate.  They  attempted  to  pass 
through  the  cornfield,  and  might  have  reached 
the  fort  in  safety,  had  they  not,  at  the  first  fire 
of  the  Indians,  hurried  impetuously  to  the  spot, 
where  they  supposed  their  companions  were 
engaged  They  rushed  into  the  very  arms  of 
danger.      The  Indians,  whose   guns  were  un- 


AND   DANIEL   BOONE.  145 

charged,  instantly  turned  upon  them  with  up- 
lifted tomahawks.  An  immediate  retreat  was 
the  consequence.  The  larger  number  of  the 
pioneers  succeeded  in  making  their  escape  out 
of  the  field,  and  concealed  themselves  in  an 
adjoining  canebrake  Six  only  were  killed  and 
wounded.  Girty  joined  in  the  pursuit.  A  ball 
from  the  rifle  of  one  of  the  retreating  party  struck 
him  on  the  side,  and  he  fell,  apparently  dead. 
But  the  measure  of  his  crime  was  not  yet  full. 
The  ball  lodged  in  his  shot-pouch,  and  his  life 
was  prolonged. 

The  day  was  now  closing.  A  severe  loss  had 
been  sustained  by  the  Indians;  and  the  chiefs 
were  in  favor  of  retiring.  Bur  Girty,  foiled  in 
his  efforts  to  reduce  the  garrison  by  force,  re- 
solved to  try  his  talents  at  diplomacy.  He  had 
the  vanity  to  believe,  that  he  could  obtain  the 
fort  by  negotiation.  Cra^vding  to  a  stump  near 
one  of  the  bastions  he  asked  to  be  heard.  He 
commended  the  courage  of  the  garrison,  but 
assured  them  that  their  successful  resistance  was 
nnpracticable ;  that  his  followers  were  very 
numerous,  and  that  he  hourly  expected  the 
arrival  of  artillery,  which  would  instantly  blow 
their  cabins  into  the  air  ;  that  if  the  fort  were 
taken  by  storm  they  would  be  killed,  but,  if  they 
12—10 


146      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

surrendered  at  once,  he  pledged  his  honor  that 
no  one  should  be  injured.  He  told  them  his 
name,  inquired  whether  they  knew  him,  and 
assured  them  they  might  trust  to  his  word. 

The  garrison  listened  in  silence  to  his  speech, 
and  some  of  them  looked  blank  at  the  mention 
of  the  artillery,  as  the  Indians  had,  on  one 
occasion,  brought  cannon  with  them  and  de- 
stroyed two  stations.  But  a  young  man  named 
Reynolds,  highly  distinguished  for  courage, 
energy,  and  a  frolicsome  gayety  of  temper,  per- 
ceiving the  effects  of  Girty's  speech,  took  it  upon 
himself  to  reply. 

To  Girty's  inquiry  "  whether  the  garrison 
knew  him,"  Reynolds  retorted,  that  "  he  was 
very  w^ell  known ;  that  he  himself  had  a  worth- 
less dog,  to  which  he  had  given  the  name  of 
Simon  Girty,  in  consequence  of  his  striking  re- 
semblance to  the  man  of  that  name ;  that  if  he 
had  either  artillery  or  re-enforcements,  he  might 
bring  them  up ;  but  that  if  either  he,  or  any  of 
the  naked  rascals  with  him,  found  their  way  into 
the  fort,  they  would  disdain  to  use  their  guns 
against  them,  but  would  drive  them  out  again 
with  switches,  of  which  they  had  collecte'l  a 
great  number  for  that  purpose  alone;  and  finally 
he  declared,  that  they  also  expected  re-enforce- 


AND    DANIEL    BOONE.  147 

merits  ;  that  the  whole  country  was  marchino: 
to  their  assistance ;  and  that,  if  Girty  and  his 
^ang  of  murderers  remained  twenty-four  hours 
longer  before  the  fort,  their  scalps  would  be 
found  drying  in  the  sun  upon  the  roofs  of  their 
cabins." 

Offended  at  the  language  of  the  young  back- 
woodsman, Gu-ty  returned  to  his  quarters ;  and 
immediate  preparations  were  made  for  the  aban- 
donment of  the  siege.  Morning  daw^ned  upon  a 
deserted  camp.  The  renegade  and  his  warriors 
were  on  their  retreat  to  their  villages. 

Information  of  the  attack  upon  Bryant's  sta- 
tion, having  spread  with  great  rapidity  thiough 
the  settlements,  the  militia  were  iminediatel}' 
summoned  to  its  defence,  and,  on  the  eighteenth 
of  August,  a  respectable  force  from  the  adjoining 
stations  was  upon  the  ground.  Col.  John  Todd 
from  Lexington  was  the  commanding  officer 
The  officers  next  to  him  in  rank  were  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Trigg  of  Harrodsburgh,  Lieutenant-Colo 
nel  Boone  of  Boonesborough,  and  Majors  Har 
land,  McGary,  and  Levi  Todd.  Col.  Logan  had 
been  notified  of  the  siege,  and  it  was  believed 
that  he  was  on  the  march  with  a  considerable 
re-enforcement.  But,  eager  for  a  conflict,  and 
ignorant  of  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  the  ma- 


148      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS 

jority  of  the  officers  determined  to  pursue  them 
forthwith,  without  awaiting  Logan^s  arrival. 

The  result  of  this  determination  was  most 
disastrous.  Boone  urgently  advised  that  they 
should  wait  for  the  re-enforcement ;  but  scarcely 
had  he  given  his  opinion,  when  Major  McGary, 
suddenly  interrupted  the  consultation  with  a  loud 
whoop,  resembling  the  warcry  of  the  Indians, 
spurred  his  horse  into  the  stream,  and  shouted 
aloud:  "Let  all  who  are  not  cowards,  follow 
me !"  The  words  and  the  action  produced  an 
electrical  effect.  The  mounted  men  dashed 
tumultuously  into  the  river,  every  one  striving  to 
be  foremost.  The  footmen  were  mingled  with 
them  in  one  rolhng  and  irregular  mass. 

Boone  had  expressed  his  apprehension  that 
the  enemy  were  lying  in  ambush  at  a  spot  near 
the  Lick,  where  two  ravines  ran  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  a  concealed  enemy  might  assail  them  at 
once  both  in  front  and  flank.  As  the  Kentucki- 
ians  approached  this  spot,  it  became  apparent 
that  Boone's  anticipations  were  correct.  The 
enemy  lay  concealed  in  great  numbers.  The 
columns  marched  up  within  forty  yards  of  the 
Indian  line  before  a  gun  was  fired. 

The  battle  immediately  commenced  with  great 
fury,  and  most  destructive  effect  on  both  sides. 


AND   DANIEL    BOONE.  149 

The  advantage  of  position  and  overwhelming 
numbers,  soon  decided  it  in  favor  of  the  savages, 
whose  first  fire  was  very  severe  upon  the  right. 
Col.  Trigg  fell,  and  with  him  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  Harrodsburg  troops.  Boone  manfully 
sustained  himself  on  the  left.  Major  Harlan 
defended  the  front  until  three  only  of  his  men 
remained.  He  also  fell,  covered  with  wounds. 
The  Indians  now^  rushed  upon  them  with  their 
tomahawks,  spreading  confusion  and  dismay 
through  their  broken  and  disabled  ranks.  The 
whole  right,  left,  and  centre,  gave  way,  and  a 
mingled  and  precipitate  retreat  commenced. 

Colonel  Todd  was  shot  through  the  body,  and 
when  last  seen  he  was  reeling  in  his  saddle, 
while  the  blood  gushed  from  his  wound.  Many 
brave  men  perished  on  that  day.  Of  the  one 
hundred  and  eighty-two,  who  went  mto  the 
battle,  one  third  were  killed  and  seven  were 
made  prisoners. 

Boone,  after  witnessing  the  death  of  his  son, 
and  many  dear  friends,  found  himself  almost 
entirely  surrounded  at  the  very  commencement 
of  the  retreat.  Being  intimately  acquainted 
with  the  ground,  he,  with  a  few  friends,  dashed 
into  the  ravine,  which  the  Indians  had  quitted 
After  baffling  many  pursuers,  he   crossed   the 


15{y      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTUEER& 

river  below  the  ford,  by  swimming,  and,  entering 
the  wood  at  a  point  where  there  was  no  pursuit, 
returned  by  a  circuitous  route  to  Bryant's 
station.  The  news  of  this  disaster  thrtw  all 
Kentucky  into  mourning. 

The  reader  remembers  young  Reynolds,  who 
replied  with  such  rough  and  ready  humor  to  the 
pompous  summons  of  Girty  at  the  siege  of 
Bryant's.  This  young  man,  after  bearing  bis 
share  in  the  action  with  distinguished  gallantry, 
was  galloping  with  several  other  horsemen  ip 
order  to  reach  the  ford.  The  great  body  of 
fugitives  had  preceded  them,  and  their  situation 
was  critical  and  dangerous. 

About  halfway  between  the  battle-ground 
and  the  river,  the  party  overtook  Captain  Pat- 
terson, on  foot,  exhausted  by  the  rapidity  of  the 
flight,  and,  in  consequence  of  his  wounds,  so 
disabled,  that  he  could  not  keep  up  with  the 
main  body  of  the  men  on  foot.  The  Indians 
were  close  behind  him,  and  his  fate  seemed  in- 
evitable. Reynolds,  upon  coming  up  with  this 
brave  officer,  instantly  sprang  from  his  horse, 
aided  Patterson  to  mount,  and  continued  his 
own  flight  on  foot.  Being  remarkably  active 
and  vigorous,  he  continued  to  elude  his  pursuers, 
and,  turning  off  from  the  main  road,  plunged  inte 


AND   DANIEL    BOONE.  151 

the  river  near  the  spot  where  Boone  had  crossed, 
and  swam  in  safety  to  the  opposite  side.  Un- 
fortunately he  wore  a  pair  of  buckskin  breeches, 
which  had  become  so  heavy  and  full  of  water, 
as  to  encumber  him,  and,  while  sitting  down  to 
pull  them  off,  he  was  overtaken  by  a  party  of 
Indians  and  captured. 

A  prisoner,  unless  wounded  and  infirm,  is 
rarely  put  to  death  by  the  Indians  until  they 
return  to  their  own  country.  Young  Reynolds 
was  treated  kindly,  and  compelled  to  accompany 
his  captors  in  the  pursuit.  A  small  party  of 
Kentuckians  soon  attracted  their  attention  ;  and 
he  was  left  in  charge  of  three  Indians,  who,  in 
their  turn,  committed  him  to  one  of  their  number, 
w^hile  they  followed  their  companions.  Rey- 
nolds took  an  occasion,  when  his  guard  was 
stooping  to  tie  his  moccasin,  to  knock  him  down, 
dart  into  a  thicket,  and  escape.  For  his  gener- 
osity and  courage.  Captain  Patterson  afterward 
made  Reynolds  a  present  of  two  hundred  acres 
of  firstrate  land. 

An  expedition  under  General  Clark,  of  one 
thousand  Kentuckians,  was  set  on  foot  to  revenge 
this  disaster.  They  destroyed  the  villages  of 
the  Indians  and  laid  their  land  waste,  but  the 
swages  themselves  contrived  to  escape.     Boone 


152  THE    KENTUCKY   AD\T<:NTURERS 

accompanied  this  expedition,  which  returned 
with  the  loss  of  only  four  men.  This  was  the 
last  affair  in  which  the  old  pioneer  was  engaged 
for  the  defence  of  the  settlements. 

Boone  was  now  advanced  in  years.  The  re- 
mainder of  his  life  was  devoted  partly  to  the 
society  of  his  children,  but  principally  to  the 
employments  of  the  chase.  He  was  in  the  habit 
of  remaining  for  days  at  a  time  in  the  forest,  at 
a  distance  from  the  abodes  of  men,  armed  w^ith  a 
rifle,  hatchet,  and  knife,  and  subsisting  upon  the 
wild  game  which  he  shot.  When  too  old  to  rove 
through  the  woods,  he  would  ride  to  a  lick,  and 
there  lay  in  ambush  all  day,  for  the  sake  of  get- 
ting a  shot  at  the  herds  of  deer  that  were  ac- 
customed to  visit  the  spot  for  the  salt. 

In  1819,  the  distinguished  artist  of  Boston, 
Chester  Harding,  Esq.,  visited  the  old  forester  at 
his  dwelling,  near  the  Missouri  river,  and  painted 
his  portrait.  He  found  Boone,  in  a  small,  rude 
cabin,  indisposed,  and  lying  on  his  bed.  A  shoe 
from  the  loin  of  a  buck,  twisted  round  the  ram- 
mer of  his  rifle,  within  reach  of  him  as  he  lay, 
was  roasting  before  the  fire.  Several  other 
cabins,  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  parallelogram. 
marked  the  spot  of  a  dilapidated  station.  Thej 
were  occupied  by  the  descendants  of  the  vener 


AND    DANIEL    BOONE.  153 

able  pioneer.  Here  he  lived  in  the  midst  of  his 
posterity.  His  withered  energies,  and  locks  of 
snow,  indicated  that  the  sources  of  existence 
were  nearly  exhausted.  On  the  twenty-sixth  of 
September,  1820,  at  the  Charette  village,  he 
breathed  his  last. 

Governor  Morehead,  of  Kentucky,  to  whom 
we  have  been  indebted  for  many  interesting  par- 
ticulars in  regard  to  Boone,  says  of  him  :  "  His 
manners  were  simple  and  unobtrusive,  exempt 
from  the  rudeness  characteristic  of  the  back- 
woodsman. In  his  person  there  was  nothing 
striking.  He  was  five  feet,  ten  inches  in  height, 
and  of  robust  and  powerful  proportions.  His 
countenance  was  mild  and  contemplative,  indi- 
cating a  frame  of  mind  altogether  different  from 
the  restlessness  and  activity  that  distinguished 
him.  His  ordinary  habiliments  were  those  of  a 
hunter —  a  hunting-shirt  and  moccasins  uniform- 
ly composing  a  part  of  them.  Throughout  his  life 
he  was  careless  of  his  pecuniary  interests.  The 
loss  of  his  lands  in  Kentucky  was  chiefly  attrib- 
utable to  inattention.  When  he  emigrated  to 
Louisiana,  he  omitted  to  secure  a  title  to  a 
princely  estate  on  the  Missouri,  because  it  would 
have  cost  him  the  trouble  of  a  trip  to  New  Or- 
leans     He  world  have  travelled  a  much  greater 


154      THE  KENTUCKY  ADVENTURERS. 

distance,  to  indulge  his  cherished  propensities  as 
an  adventurer  and  a  hunter.  He  died  as  he  had 
Uved,  in  a  cabin ;  and,  perhaps,  his  trusty  rifle 
was  the  most  valuable  of  his  chattels. 

"  Such  was  the  man  to  whom  has  been  ascribed 
the  principal  merit  of  the  discovery  of  Kentucky 
Resting  on  the  soHd  advantages  of  his  services 
to  his  country,  his  fame  will  survive  when  the 
achievements  of  men,  greatly  his  superiors  in  rank 
and  intellect,  will  be  forgotten." 


KENTON   THE   SPY  155 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FENTON    THE    SPY,    AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES^ 

A  SECRET  expedition  had  been  planned  by 
Colonel  Bowman  of  Kentucky  against  an  Indian 
town  on  the  little  Miami.  Simon  Kenton  and 
two  young  men,  named  Clark  and  Montgomery, 
were  employed  to  proceed  in  advance,  and  re- 
connoitre. Kenton  was  a  native  of  Fauquier 
county,  Virginia,  where  he  was  born  the  fifteenth 
of  May,  1755.  His  companions  were  roving 
backwoodsmen,  denizens  of  the  wood,  and  hunt- 
ers like  himself. 

These  adventurers  set  out  in  obedience  to  their 
orders,  and  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Indian  village  w^ithout  being  discovered.  They 
examined  it  attentively,  and  walked  around  the 
cabins  during  the  night  with  perfect  impunity. 
Had  they  returned  after  reconnoitring  the  place 
'they  would  have  accomplished  the  object  of  theii 


156  KENTON    THE    SPY, 

mission,  and  avoided  a  heavy  calamity.  They 
fell  martyrs,  however,  to  their  passion  for  horse- 
flesh. 

Unfortunately,  during  their  nightly  promenade, 
they  stumbled  upon  a  pound,  in  v^^hich  were  a 
number  of  Indian  horses.  The  temptation  was 
not  to  be  resisted.  They  severally  seized  a  horse 
and  mounted.  But  there  still  remained  a  num- 
ber of  fine  animals;  and  the  adventurers  cast 
longing,  hngering  looks  behind  It  was  melan- 
choly —  the  idea  of  forsaking  such  a  goodly 
prize.  Flesh  and  blood  could  not  resist  the 
temptation.  Getting  scalped  was  nothing  to  the 
loss  of  such  beautiful  specimens  of  horseflesh. 
They  turned  back,  and  took  several  more.  The 
horses,  however,  seemed  indisposed  to  change 
masters,  and  so  much  noise  was  made  in  the 
attempt  to  secure  them,  that  at  last  the  thieves 
were  discovered. 

The  cry  rang  through  the  village  at  once, 
that  the  Long-Knives  were  stealing  their  horses 
right  before  the  doors  of  their  wigwams.  A 
great  hubbub  ensued ;  and  Indians,  old  and 
young,  squaws,  children,  and  warriors,  all  sallied 
out  with  loud  screams  to  save  their  property 
from  the  greedy  spoilers.  Kenton  and  his  friends 
saw  that  they  had  overshot  their  mark,  and  thai 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  157 

they  must  ride  for  their  Uves.  Even  m  this  ex- 
tremity, however,  they  could  not  reconcile  their 
minds  to  the  surrender  of  a  single  horse  which 
they  had  haltered ;  and  while  two  of  them  rode 
in  front  and  led  a  great  number  of  horses,  the 
other  brought  up  the  rear,  and  plying  his  whip 
from  right  to  left,  did  not  permit  a  single  animal 
to  lag  behind. 

In  this  manner  they  dashed  through  the  woods 
at  a  furious  rate  with  the  hue  and  cry  after  them, 
until  their  course  was  suddenly  stopped  by  an 
impenetrable  swamp.  Here,  from  necessity, 
they  paused  a  few  minutes,  and  listened  atten- 
tively. Hearing  no  sounds  of  pursuit,  they  re- 
sumed their  course,  and  skirting  the  swamp  for 
some  distance  in  the  vain  hope  of  crossing  it, 
they  bent  their  course  in  a  straight  direction  to 
the  Ohio.  They  rode  during  the  whole  night 
without  resting  a  moment.  Halting  a  brief 
space  at  daylight,  they  continued  their  journey 
throughout  the  day,  and  the  whole  of  the  follow- 
ing night ;  and,  by  this  uncommon  celerity  of 
movement,  they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  north- 
ern bank  of  the  Ohio  on  the  morning  of  the 
second  day. 

Crossing   the  river  would  now  ensure  their 


158  KENTON    THE    SPY, 

Safety,  but  this  was  likely  to  prove  a  difficult 
undertaking,  and  the  close  pursuit,  which  they 
had  reason  to  expect,  rendered  it  expedient  to 
lose  as  little  time  as  possible.  The  wind  was 
high,  and  the  river  rough  and  boisterous.  It 
was  determined  that  Kenton  should  cross  with 
the  horses,  while  Clark  and  Montgomery  sho  ild 
construct  a  raft,  in  order  to  transport  their  guns, 
baggage,  and  ammunition,  to  the  opposite  shore 
The  necessary  preparations  were  soon  made, 
and  Kenton,  after  forcing  his  horses  into  the 
river,  plunged  in  himself  and  swam  by  their  side 

In  a  few  minutes  the  high  waves  completely 
overwhelmed  him  and  forced  him  considerably 
below  the  horses,  who  stemmed  the  current  much 
more  successfully  than  he. 

The  horses  being  left  to  themselves,  turned 
about  and  made  for  the  Ohio  shore,  where  Ken- 
ton was  compelled  to  folio w^  them.  Again  he 
forced  them  into  the  water,  and  again  they  re^ 
turned  to  the  same  spot,  until  Kenton  became  so 
exhausted  by  repeated  efforts,  as  to  be  unable  to 
swim.     What  w^as  to  be  done  ? 

That  the  Indians  would  pursue  them  was  cer- 
tain. That  the  horses  would  not  and  could  not 
be  made  to  cross  the  river  in  its  present  state 
was  equally  certain      Should  they  abandon  their 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  159 

norses  and  cross  on  the  raft,  or  remain  with  their 
norses,  and  brave  the  consequence  ?  The  latter 
alternative  was  adopted  unanimously.  Death  or 
captivity  might  be  tolerated,  but  the  loss  of  such 
a  beautiful  lot  of  horses,  after  working  so  hard 
for  them,  was  not  to  be  thought  of  for  a  moment 

Should  they  now  move  up  or  down  the  river, 
or  remain  were  they  were  ?  The  latter  plan 
was  adopted  and  a  more  indiscreet  one  could 
hardly  have  been  imagined  They  supposed  that 
the  wind  would  fall  at  sunset,  and  the  river  be- 
come sufficiently  calm  to  admit  of  their  passage : 
and,  as  it  was  thought  probable,  that  the  Indians 
might  be  upon  them  before  night,  it  was  deter- 
mined to  conceal  their  horses  in  a  neighboring 
ravine,  while  they  should  take  their  stations  in 
the  adjoining  wood. 

The  day  passed  away  in  tranquillity ;  but  at 
night  the  wind  blew  harder  than  ever,  and  the 
water  became  so  rough,  that  they  would  hardly 
have  been  able  to  cross  in  their  raft.  As 
if  totally  infatuated,  they  remained  where  they 
were  until  morning ;  thus  wasting  twenty- 
four  hours  of  most  precious  time  in  idleness.  Iii 
the  morning,  the  wind  abated,  and  the  river  be- 
came calm ;  but,  it  was  now  too  late.  Their 
horses   had   become  obstinate    and  intractable 


160  KENTON   THE    SPY, 

and  positively  and  repeatedly  refused  to  take  to 
the  water. 

Their  masters  at  length  determined  to  do  what 
ought  to  have  been  done  at  first.  They  sever- 
ally resolved  to  mount  a  horse,  and  make  the 
best  of  their  way  dow^n  the  river  to  Louisville 
But  their  unconquerable  reluctance  to  lose  their 
horses  overcame  even  this  resolution.  Instead  of 
leaving  the  ground  instantly,  they  went  back 
upon  their  own  trail,  in  the  vain  effort  to  regain 
possession  of  the  rest  of  the  horses,  which  had 
broken  from  them  in  their  last  effort  to  drive 
them  into  the  water.  They  literally  fell  victims 
to  their  love  for  horseflesh. 

They  had  scarcely  ridden  one  hundred  yards 
when  Kenton,  who  had  dismounted,  heard  a  loud 
halloo.  He  quickly  beheld  three  Indians  and 
one  white  man,  all  well  mounted.  Wishing  to 
give  the  alarm  to  his  companions,  he  raised  his 
rifle,  took  a  steady  aim  at  the  breast  of  the  fore- 
most Indian,  and  drew  the  trigger.  His  gun  had 
become  wet  on  the  raft,  and  flashed. 

The  enemy  were  instantly  alarmed,  and  dashed 
at  him.  Kenton  took  to  his  heels,  and  was  pur- 
sued by  four  horsemen  at  full  speed.  He  in- 
stantly directed  his  steps  to  the  thickest  part  of  the 
wood,  and  had  succeeded,  as  he  thought,  in  baf- 


AlSfD    HIS    HAIKBREADTH    ESCAPES.  161 

fling  his  pursuers,  when,  just  as  he  was  entering 
the  wood,  an  Indian  on  horseback  galloped  up 
to  him  with  such  rapidity  as  to  render  flight  use- 
less. The  horseman  rode  up,  holding  out  his 
hand,  and  calhng  out  "  Brother !  brother  !"  in  a 
tone  of  great  affection.  Kenton  observes  that  if 
his  gun  would  have  made  fire,  he  would  have 
"brothered"  him  to  his  heart's  content,  but, 
being  totally  unarmed,  he  called  out  that  he 
would  surrender  if  they  would  give  him  quarter 
and  good  treatment. 

Promises  were  cheap  with  the  Indian,  who, 
advancing  with  extended  hands  and  a  withering 
grin  upon  his  countenance,  which  was  intended 
for  a  smile  of  courtesy,  seized  Kenton's  hand 
and  grasped  it  with  violence.  Kenton,  not 
nking  the  manner  of  his  captor,  raised  his  gun  to 
knock  him  down,  when  an  Indian,  who  had  fol- 
lowed him  closely  through  the  brushwood,  sprung 
upon  his  back  and  pinioned  his  arms  to  his  side. 
The  one,  who  had  been  grinning  so  amiably, 
then  raised  him  by  the  hair  and  shook  him 
until  his  teeth  rattled,  while  the  rest  of  the 
party  coming  up,  fell  upon  Kenton  with  their 
tongues  and  ramrods,  until  he  thought  they 
would  scold  or  beat  him  to  death.  They  were 
the  owners  of  the  horses  which  he  had  carried 
12—11 


162  KENTON    THE    SP¥, 

off,  and  now  took  ample  revenge  for  the  loss  oi 
their  property.  At  every  stroke  of  their  ram- 
rods over  his  head,  they  would  exclaim  in  a  tone 
of  strong  indignation,  "  Steal  Indian  hoss !  hey  1" 

Their  attention,  however,  was  soon  directed 
to  Montgomery,  who,  having  heard  the  noise 
attending  Kenton's  capture,  very  gallantly  hast- 
ened up  to  his  assistance ;  while  Clark  prudently 
took  to  his  heels.  Montgomery  halted  within 
gunshot,  and  appeared  busy  with  the  pan  of  his 
gun,  as  if  preparing  to  fire.  Two  Indians  in- 
stantly sprung  off  in  pursuit  of  him,  while  the 
rest  attended  to  Kenton.  In  a  few  minutes 
Kenton  heard  the  crack  of  two  rifles  in  quick 
succession,  followed  by  a  halloo,  which  an- 
nounced the  fate  of  his  friend.  The  Indians 
returned,  waving  the  bloody  scalp  of  Mont- 
gomery, and  with  countenances  and  gestures, 
which  menaced  him  with  a  similar  fate. 

They  then  proceeded  to  secure  their  prisoner, 
by  pinioning  him  with  stout  sticks,  and  fastening 
him  with  ropes  to  a  tree.  During  the  operation, 
they  cuffed  him  from  time  to  time  with  great 
heartiness,  and  abused  him  for  a  "  tief ! —  a  hoss 
steal!  —  a  rascal!" 

Kenton  remained  in  this  painful  position 
throughout  the  night,  looking  forward  to  cei-^ain 


AND   HIS   HAIRBREADTH   ESCAPES.  163 

death,  and  most  probably  torture,  as  soon  as  he 
should  reach  their  towns.  Their  rage  against 
him  displayed  itself  the  next  mommg,  in  rather 
a  singular  manner. 

Among  the  horses,  Avhich  Kenton  had  taken, 
was  a  w^ild  young  colt,  w^holly  imbroken,  and 
with  all  his  honors  of  mane  and  tail  undocked. 
Upon  him  Kenton  was  mounted,  without  saddle 
or  bridle,  with  his  hands  tied  behind  him,  and 
his  feet  fastened  under  the  horse's  belly.  The 
country  was  rough  and  bushy,  and  Kenton  had 
no  means  of  protecting  his  face  from  the  bram- 
bles, through  Avhich  it  was  expected  that  the 
colt  would  dash.  As  soon  as  the  rider  was 
firmly  fastened  to  his  back,  the  colt  was  turned 
loose  with  a  sudden  lash,  but  after  curvetting 
and  capricoling  for  a  while,  to  the  great  distress 
of  Kenton,  but  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  the 
Indians,  he  appeared  to  take  compassion  on  his 
rider,  and  falling  into  a  line  with  the  other 
horses,  avoided  the  brambles  entirely,  and  went 
on  very  well.  In  this  manner  he  rode  through 
th<.'  day.  At  night  he  was  taken  from  the  horse, 
and  confined  as  before. 

On  the  third  day,  they  came  within  a  few 
miles  of  ChilKcothe.  Here  the  party  halted, 
and  sent  forward  a  messenger  to  prepare  for 


164  KENTON    THE    SPY, 

their  reception.  In  a  short  time,  Blackfish,  one 
of  their  chiefs,  arrived,  and  regarding  Kenton 
with  a  stern  countenance,  thundered  out  in  very 
good  English :  "  You  have  been  steahng  horses  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Did  Captain  Boone  tell  you  to  steal  our 
horses  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  did  it  of  my  own  accord." 

Blackfish  made  no  reply  to  this  frank  con- 
fession ;  but,  brandishing  a  hickory  switch,  he 
applied  it  so  briskly  to  Kenton's  naked  back  and 
shoulders,  as  to  bring  the  blood  freely,  and 
occasion  acute  pain. 

Thus,  alternately  scolded  and  beaten,  Kenton 
was  conducted  to  the  village.  All  the  inhabi- 
tants, men,  women,  and  children,  ran  out  to  feast 
their  eyes  with  a  sight  of  the  prisoner ;  and  all, 
down  to  the  smallest  child,  appeared  in  a 
paroxysm  of  rage.  They  whooped,  they  yelled, 
they  hooted,  they  clapped  their  hands,  and  pour- 
ed upon  him  a  flood  of  abuse,  to  which  all  that 
he  had  yet  experienced  was  courteous  and  civil. 
With  loud  cries  they  demanded  that  their  pis- 
oner  should  be  tied  to  the  stake.  The  hint  was 
instantly  complied  with  ;  but  after  being  well 
thrashed  and  tormented,  he  was  released  for  the 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  165 

purpose  of  furnishing  further  amusement  to  his 
captors. 

Early  in  the  morning,  he  beheld  the  scalp  of 
Montgomery  stretched  upon  a  hoop,  and  drying 
in  the  air,  before  the  door  of  one  of  their  prin- 
cipal houses.  He  was  led  out  and  ordered  to 
run  the  gauntlet.  A  row  of  boys,  women,  and 
men,  extended  to  the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile.  At  the  starting-place  stood  two  grim 
warriors  with  butcher-knives  in  their  hands.  At 
the  extremity  of  the  line,  was  an  Indian  beating 
a  drum;  and  a  few  paces  beyond  the  drum  was 
the  door  of  the  council-house.  Clubs,  switches, 
hoe-handles,  and  tomahawks,  were  brandished 
along  the  whole  line,  and  as  Kenton  saw  these 
formidable  preparations,  the  cold  sweat  streamed 
from  his  pores. 

The  moment  for  starting  arrived.  The  great 
drum  at  the  door  of  the  council-house  was  struck; 
and  Kenton  sprang  forward  in  the  race.  He, 
however,  avoided  the  row  of  his  enemies,  and 
turning  to  the  east  drew  the  whole  party  in 
pursuit  of  him.  He  doubled  several  times  with 
great  activity,  and  at  length  observing  an  open- 
ing, he  darted  through  it,  and  pressed  forward  to 
the  council- house  with  a  rapidity  which  left  his 
pursuers  far  behind.     One  or  two  of  the  Indians 


166  KENTON   THE    SPY, 

succeeded  in  throwing  themselves  between  him 
and  the  goal,  and  from  these  alone  he  received 
a  few  blow^,  but  was  much  less  injured  than  he 
could  at  first  have  supposed  possible. 

After  the  race  was  over,  a  council  to  decide 
his  fate  was  held,  while  he  was  handed  over  naked 
and  bound  to  the  care  of  a  guard  in  the  open  air. 
The  deliberation  commenced.  Every  warrior 
sat  in  silence,  while  a  large  warclub  was  passed 
round  the  circle.  Those  who  were  opposed  to 
burning  the  prisoner  on  the  spot,  were  to  pass 
the  club  in  silence  to  the  next  warrior.  Those 
in  favor  of  burning  were  to  strike  the  earth  vio- 
lently with  the  club  before  passing  it. 

A  teller  was  appointed  to  count  the  votes. 
This  dignitary  reported  that  the  opposition  had 
prevailed ;  and  that  it  was  determined  to  take 
the  prisoner  to  an  Indian  town  on  Mad  river, 
called  Waughcotomoco.  His  fate  was  announced 
to  him  by  a  renegado  white  man,  who  acted  as 
interpreter.  Kenton  asked  "  what  the  Indians 
intended  to  do  'v^ath  him  upon  reaching  Waugh- 
cotomoco." 

"  Burn  you !"  replied  the  renegado,  with  a 
ferocious  oath. 

After  this  pleasant  assurance,  the  laconic  and 
scowHng  interpreter  walked  away. 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  167 

The  prisoner's  clothes  were  restored  to  him,  and 
he  was  permitted  to  remain  unbound.  Thanks  to 
the  intimation  of  the  interpreter,  he  was  aware 
of  the  fate  in  reserve  for  him,  and  resolved  that 
he  would  never  be  carried  alive  to  Waughcoto- 
moco.  Their  route  lay  through  an  unpruned 
forest,  abounding  in  thickets  and  undei  growth. 
During  the  whole  of  the  march,  Kenton  remained 
abstracted  and  silent;  often  meditating  an  ef- 
fort for  the  recovery  of  his  liberty,  and  as  often 
shrinking  from  the  peril  of  the  attempt. 

At  length  he  was  aroused  from  his  revery  by 
the  Indians  firing  off  their  guns,  and  raising  the 
shrill  scalp-halloo.  The' signal  was  soon  an- 
swered, and  the  deep  roll  of  a  drum  was  heard 
far  in  front,  announcing  to  the  unhappy  prisoner, 
that  they  were  approaching:  an  Indian  town, 
where  the  gauntlet  certainly,  and  perhaps  the 
stake  awaited  him. 

The  idea  of  a  repetition  of  the  dreadful 
scenes  he  had  just  encountered,  overcame  his  in- 
decision, and,  with  a  sudden  and  startling  cry, 
he  sprung  into  the  bushes  and  fled  with  the 
speed  of  a  wild  deer.  The  pursuit  was  instant 
and  keen.  Some  of  his  pursuers  were  on  horse- 
back, some  on  foot-  But  he  was  flying  for  his 
life.     The  stake  and  the  hot  iron,  and  the  burn- 


168  KENTON    THE    SPY, 

ing  splinters  were  before  his  eyes,  and  he  soon 
distanced  the  swiftest  hunter  in  pursuit. 

But  fate  was  against  him  at  every  turn 
Thinking  only  of  the  enemy  behind,  he  forgot 
that  there  might  be  an  enemy  before ;  and  he 
suddenly  found  that  he  had  plunged  into  the 
centre  of  a  fresh  party  of  horsemen,  who  had 
sallied  from  the  town  at  the  firing  of  the  guns, 
and  happened,  unfortunately,  to  stumble  upon 
the  poor  prisoner,  now  making  a  last  effort  for 
freedom.  His  heart  sunk  at  once  from  the  ardor 
of  hope,  to  the  lowest  pit  of  despair,  and  he  was 
again  haltered  and  driven  into  captivity  like  an 
ox  to  the  slaughterhouse. 

On  the  second  day  he  arrived  at  Waughcoto- 
moco.  Here  he  was  again  compelled  to  run  the 
gauntlet,  in  which  he  was  severely  hurt.  Imme- 
diately after  this  ceremony,  he  was  taken  to  the 
council-house,  and  all  the  warriors  once  more 
assembled  to  determine  his  fate. 

He  sat  silent  and  dejected  upon  the  floor  of 
the  cabin,  when  the  door  of  the  council-house 
opened,  and  Simon  Girty,  James  Girty,  John 
Ward,  and  an  Indian,  came  in  with  a  woman  as  a 
prisoner,  together  with  seven  children  and  seven 
scalps.  Kenton  was  immediately  removed  from 
the  council-house,  and  the  deliberations  of  the 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  169 

assembly  were  protracted  to  a  very  late  hour, 
in  consequence  of  the  arrival  of  the  last-named 
party  with  a  fresh  drove  of  prisoners. 

At  length  he  was  again  summoned  to  attend 
the  council-house,  being  informed  that  his  fate 
was  decided.  Upon  entering,  he  was  greeted 
with  a  savage  scowl,  which,  if  he  had  still  cher- 
ished a  spark  of  hope,  would  have  completely 
extinguished  it.  Simon  Girty  threw  a  blanket 
upon  the  floor,  and  harshly  ordered  him  to  take 
a  seat  upon  it.  The  order  was  not  immediately 
compHed  with,  and  Girty  impatiently  seizing  his 
arm,  jerked  him  roughly  upon  the  blanket  and 
pulled  him  down. 

In  a  menacing  tone,  Girty  then  interrogated 
him  as  to  the  condition  of  Kentucky. 

"  How  many  men  are  there  in  Kentucky  ?" 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  answer  that  ques- 
tion," replied  Kenton  ;  "  but  I  can  tell  you  the 
number  of  officers,  and  their  respective  ranks, 
and  you  can  then  judge  for  yourself." 

"  Do  you  know  WilUam  Stewart  V 

"  Perfectly  well ;  he  is  an  old  and  intimate 
acquaintance." 

"  What  is  your  own  name  ?" 

"  Simon  Butler !"   rephed  Kenton,  who  had 
formerly  been  known  by  that  name. 
T.— O 


170  KENTON   THE    SPY, 

Never  did  the  announcement  of  a  name  pio- 
duce  a  more  powerful  effect.  Girty  and  Kenton 
had  served  as  spies  together  in  Dunmore's  ex- 
pedition. The  former  had  not  then  abandoned 
the  society  of  the  whites,  for  that  of  the  savages, 
and  had  become  warmly  attached  to  Kenton 
during  the  short  period  of  their  services  together. 
As  soon  as  he  heard  the  name,  he  threw  his  arms 
around  Kenton's  neck,  and  embraced  him  with 
much  emotion. 

Then  turning  to  the  assembled  warriors,  who 
had  witnessed  this  scene  with  much  surprise, 
Girty  informed  them  that  the  prisoner,  whom  they 
had  just  condemned  to  the  stake,  was  his  ancient 
companion  and  bosom-friend;  that  they  had 
travelled  the  same  war-path,  slept  upon  the 
same  blanket,  and  dwelt  in  the  same  wigwam. 
He  entreated  them  to  spare  him  the  anguish  of 
witnessing  the  torture  by  his  adopted  brothers 
of  an  old  comrade ;  and  not  to  refuse  so  trifling  a 
favor  as  the  life  of  a  white  man  to  the  earnest 
intercession  of  one,  who  had  proved,  by  three 
years'  faithful  service,  that  he  was  zealously 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  the  Indians. 

The  speech  was  listened  to  in  silence,  and 
some  of  the  chiefs  were  disposed  to  grant  Girty's 
request.     But  others  urged  the  flagrant  misde- 


AND   HIS    HAIRBREADTH   ESCAPE?  171 

meanors  of  Kenton ;  that  he  had  not  only  stolen 
their  horses,  but  had  flashed  his  gun  at  one  ol 
their  young  men ;  that  it  was  in  vain  to  sup- 
pose that  so  bad  a  man  could  ever  become  an 
Indian  at  heart,  like  their  brother  Girty ;  that 
the  Kentuckians  were  all  alike,  very  bad  people, 
and  ought  to  be  killed  as  fast  as  they  were 
taken ;  and,  finally,  they  observed  that  many  of 
their  people  had  come  from  a  distance,  solely  to 
assist  at  the  torture  of  the  prisoner;  and  patheti- 
cally painted  the  disappointment  and  chagrin, 
with  which  they  would  hear  that  all  their  trouble 
had  been  for  nothing. 

Girty  continued  to  urge  his  request,  however, 
with  great  earnestness,  and  the  debate  was  car- 
ried on  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  with  much  ener- 
gy and  heat.  The  feelings  of  Kenton  during 
this  suspense  may  be  imagined. 

At  length  the  warclub  was  produced,  and  the 
final  vote  taken.  It  was  in  favor  of  the  prison- 
ers reprieve.  Having  thus  succeeded  in  his 
benevolent  purpose,  Girty  lost  no  time  in  attend- 
ing to  the  comfort  of  his  friend  He  led  him 
into  his  own  wigwam,  and,  from  his  own  store, 
gave  him  a  pair  of  moccasins  and  leggins,  a 
breechcloth,  a  hat,  a  coat,  a  handkerchief  for  his 
neck,  and  another  for  his  head. 


l'/2  KENTON   THE    SPY, 

For  the  space  of  three  weeks,  Kenton  lived  in 
tranquillity,  treated  with  much  kindness  by  Girty 
and  the  chiefs.  But  at  the  end  of  that  time,  as 
he  was  one  day  with  Girty  and  an  Indian  named 
Redpole,  another  Indian  came  from  the  village 
toward  them,  uttering  repeatedly  a  whoop  ot 
peculiar  intonation.  Girty  instantly  told  Ken- 
ton that  it  was  the  distress-halloo,  and  that  they 
must  all  go  instantly  to  the  council-house. 
Kenton's  heart  fluttered  at  the  intelligence,  for 
he  dreaded  all  whoops,  and  heartily  hated  all 
council-houses,  firmly  believing  that  neither 
boded  him  any  good.  Nothing,  however,  could 
be  done,  to  avoid  whatever  fate  awaited  him,  and 
he  sadly  accompanied  Girty  and  Redpole  back 
to  the  village. 

On  entering  the  council-house,  Kenton  per- 
ceived from  the  ominous  scowls  of  the  chiefs  that 
they  meant  no  tenderness  toward  him.  Girty  and 
Redpole  were  cordially  received,  but  when  poor 
Kenton  offered  his  hand,  it  was  rejected  by  six 
Indians  successively,  after  which,  sinking  into 
despondence,  he  turned  away  and  stood  apart. 

The  debate  commenced.  Kenton  looked 
eagerly  toward  Girty  as  his  last  and  only  hope. 
His  friend  seemed  anxious  and  distressed.  The 
•^hiefs  from  a  distance  arose  one  after  another 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  173 

and  spoke  in  a  firm  and  indignant  tone,  often 
looking  at  Kenton  with  an  eye  of  death.  Girty 
did  not  desert  him,  but  his  eloquence  was  wasted. 
After  a  warm  discussion,  he  turned  to  Kenton, 
and  said,  "  Well,  my  friend,  you  must  die!" 

One  of  the  stranger  chiefs  instantly  seized  him 
by  the  collar,  and  the  others  surrounding  him,  he 
was  strongly  pinioned,  committed  to  a  guard, 
and  marched  off.  His  guard  were  on  horseback, 
while  he  was  driven  before  them  on  foot,  with 
a  long  rope  round  his  neck.  In  this  manner 
they  had  marched  about  two  and  a  half  miles, 
when  Girty  passed  them  on  horseback,  informing 
Kenton  that  he  had  friends  at  the  next  village, 
with  whose  aid  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  do  some- 
thing for  him.  Girty  passed  on  to  the  town,  but 
finding  that  nothing  could  be  done,  he  would  not 
see  his  friend  again,  but  returned  to  Waughcoto 
moco  by  a  different  route. 

The  Indians  with  their  prisoner  soon  reached  a 
large  village  upon  the  head  waters  of  the  Scioto, 
where  Kenton,  for  the  first  time,  beheld  the 
celebrated  Mingo  chief,  Logan,  so  honorably 
mentioned  in  Jefferson's  Notes  on  Virginia. 
Logan  walked  gravely  up  to  the  place  where 
Kenton  stood,  and  the  following  short  conversa- 
tion ensued :  — 


174  KENTON   THE    SPY, 

"  Well,  young  man,  these  people  seem  very 
mad  at  you  1" 

"  Yes,  sir,  they  certainly  are." 

"  Well ;  do  n't  be  disheartened.  I  am  a  great 
chief.  You  are  to  go  to  Sandusky.  They  speak 
of  burning  you  there.  But  I  will  send  two  run- 
ners to-morrow  to  help  you." 

Logan's  form  was  manly,  his  countenance 
calm  and  noble,  and  he  spoke  the  English  lan- 
guage with  fluency  and  correctness.  Kenton's 
spirits  revived  at  the  address  of  the  benevolent 
chief,  and  he  once  more  looked  upon  himself  as 
providentially  rescued  from  the  stake. 

On  the  following  morning,  two  runners  were 
despatched  to  Sandusky,  as  the  chief  had  promis- 
ed. In  the  evening  they  returned,  and  were 
closeted  with  Logan.  Kenton  felt  the  most 
burning  anxiety  to  know  the  result  of  their 
mission,  but  Logan  did  not  visit  him  until  the 
next  morning.  He  then  walked  up  to  him, 
accompanied  by  Kenton's  guards,  and  giving 
him  a  piece  of  bread,  told  him  that  he  was  in- 
stantly to  be  carried  to  Sandusky;  and  left  him 
without  uttering  another  word. 

Again  Kenton's  spirits  sunk.  From  Logan's 
manner,  he  supposed  that  his  intercession  had 
been  unavailing,  and  that  Sandusky  was  to  be 


AND    HIS    HAIRBREADTH    ESCAPES.  175 

the  scene  of  his  final  suffering.  This  appears  to 
have  been  the  truth.  But  fortune  had  not 
finished  her  caprices.  On  being  driven  into  the 
town,  for  the  purpose  of  being  burnt  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  an  Indian  agent  from  Canada, 
named  Drewyer,  interposed,  and  once  more 
was  he  rescued  from  the  stake.  Drewyer  wished 
to  obtain  information  for  the  British  commandant 
at  Detroit ;  and  so  earnestly  did  he  insist  upon 
Kenton's  being  delivered  to  him,  that  the  Indians 
at  length  consented,  upon  the  express  condition 
that,  after  the  required  information  had  been 
obtained,  he  should  be  again  restored  to  their 
possession.  To  this  Drewyer  consented,  and, 
without  further  difficulty,  Kenton  was  transferred 
to  his  hands.  Drewyer  lost  no  time  in  removing 
him  to  Detroit.  On  the  road,  he  informed 
Kenton  of  the  condition  upon  which  he  had 
obtained  possession  of  his  person,  assuring  him, 
however,  that  no  consideration  should  induce 
him  to  abandon  a  prisoner  to  the  mercy  of  such 
wretches. 

At  Detroit,  Kenton's  condition  was  not  un- 
pleasant. He  was  obliged  to  report  himself 
every  morning  to  an  English  officer ;  and  was 
restricted  to  certain  boundaries  through  the  day. 
[n  other  respects  he  scarcely  felt  that  he  was  a 


176  KENTON   THE    SPY. 

prisoner.  His  wounds  were  healed,  hnd  his 
emaciated  limbs  were  again  clothed  w  ith  a  fair 
proportion  of  flesh.  He  remained  in  this  state 
of  easy  restraint  from  October,  1777,  until  June, 
1778,  when  he  meditated  an  escape. 

He  cautiously  broached  his  project  to  two 
young  Kentuckians,  then  at  Detroit,  who  had 
been  taken  with  Boone  at  the  Blue  Licks,  and 
had  been  purchased  by  the  British.  He  found 
them  as  impatient  as  himself  of  captivity,  and 
resolute  to  accompany  him.  He  commenced 
instant  preparations.  Having  formed  a  close 
friendship  with  two  Indian  hunters,  he  deluged 
them  wdth  rum,  and  bought  their  guns  for  a  mere 
trifle.  These  he  hid  in  the  woods,  and,  return- 
ing to  Detroit,  managed  to  procure  powder  and 
balls,  with  another  rifle. 

The  three  prisoners  then  appointed  a  night  for 
their  attempt,  and  agreed  upon  a  place  of  ren- 
dezvous. They  met  at  the  time  and  place  ap- 
pointed, without  discovery,  and,  taking  a  circui- 
tous route,  avoiding  pursuit  by  travelling  only 
during  the  night,  they  at  length  arrived  safely  at 
Louisville,  after  a  march  of  thirty  days 


A   GALLANT   DEED   AND    A    RUTHLESS    ONE.    177 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A    GALLANT    DEED    AND     A    RUTHLESS    ONE LOGAN 

AND    MCGARY 

Among  the  earliest  and  most  respectable  of  the 
emigrants  to  Kentucky,  was  General  Benjamin 
Logan,  a  Virginian  by  birth.  In  the  spring  of 
1776  he  removed  his  family  to  a  small  settlement 
called  Logan's  fort,  not  far  from  Harrodsburgh. 
Here  his  courage  and  generosity  were  honorably 
put  to  the  test. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1777,  the  women  of 
his  family  were  milking  the  cows  at  the  gate  of 
the  little  fort,  and  some  of  the  garrison  attend- 
ing them,  when  a  party  of  Indians  appeared  and 
fired  upon  them.  One  man  was  shot  dead,  and 
two  more  wounded,  one  of  them  mortally.  The 
whole  party,  including  one  of  the  wounded  men, 
instantly  ran  into  the  fort,  and  closed  the  gate. 
The  enemy  quickly  showed  themselves  upon  the 

edge  of  a  canebrake,  within  close  rifle-shot  of  the 
12—12 


178     A   GALLANT  DEED   AND   A   RUTHLESS  ONE. 

gate,  and  seemed  numerous  and  determined. 
Having  a  moment's  leisure  to  look  around,  Lo- 
gan beheld  a  spectacle,  which  awakened  his 
most  lively  interest  and  compassion. 

A  man  named  Harrison  had  been  severely 
wounded,  and  still  lay  near  the  spot  where  he 
had  fallen,  within  view  both  of  the  garrison  and 
the  Indians.  The  poor  fellow  was,  at  intervals, 
endeavoring  to  crawl  in  the  direction  of  the  fort, 
and  had  succeeded  in  reaching  a  cluster  of  bushes, 
which,  however,  were  too  thin  to  shelter  his  per- 
son from  the  enemy.  His  w^ife  and  family  were 
in  the  fort,  and  in  deep  distress  at  his  situation. 
The  Indians  undoubtedly  forbore  to  fire  upon  him, 
from  the  supposition  that  some  of  the  garrison 
would  attempt  to  save  him,  in  which  case,  they 
held  themselves  in  readiness  to  fire  upon  them 
from  the  canebrake.  The  case  was  a  trying 
one.  It  seemed  impossible  to  save  him  without 
sacrificing  the  lives  of  several  of  the  garrison ; 
and  their  numbers  were  already  far  too  few  for 
an  efifectual  defence,  having  originally  amounted 
only  to  fifteen  men,  of  whom  three  had  already 
been  put  hors  de  combat. 

Yet  the  spectacle  was  so  moving,  and  the 
lamentations  of  the  wounded  man's  family  so 
distressing,  that  it  was  diflScult  to  resist  making 


A  GALLANT  DEED  AND  A  RUTHLESS  ONE.   179 

an  effort  to  rescue  him.  Logan  tried  to  persuade 
some  of  his  men  to  accompany  him  in  a  sally,  but 
so  evident  and  appalling  was  the  danger,  that  all 
at  fii'st  refused ;  one  herculean  fellow  observing 
that  he  was  a  "  weakly  man,"  and  another  de- 
claring that  he  was  sorry  for  Harrison,  but  that 
"  the  skin  was  closer  than  the  shirt."  At  length, 
John  Martin  collected  his  courage,  and  declared 
his  willingness  to  accompany  Logan,  saying, 
that  "  he  could  only  die  once,  and  that  he  was 
as  ready  now  as  he  ever  could  be."  The  two 
men  opened  the  gate,  and  started  upon  their  ex- 
pedition, Logan  leading  the  way. 

They  had  not  advanced  five  steps,  when  Har- 
rison perceiving  them,  made  a  vigorous  effort  to 
rise,  upon  which  Martin,  supposing  him  able  to 
help  himself,  immediately  sprang  back  within 
the  gate. 

Harrison's  strength  almost  instantly  failed, 
and  he  fell  at  full  length  upon  the  grass.  Logan 
paused  a  moment  after  the  desertion  of  Martin, 
then  suddenly  sprang  forward  to  the  spot  where 
Harrison  lay,  rushing  through  a  tremendous 
shower  of  rifle-balls,  which  was  poured  upon 
him  from  every  quarter  around  the  fort,  capable 
of  covering  an  Indian.  Seizing  the  wounded 
man  in  his  arms,  he  ran  with  him  to  the  fort, 


180      A  GALLANT  DEED  AND  A  RUTHLESS  ONE. 

through  another  heavy  fire,  and  entered  it  un- 
hurt, although  the  gate  and  picketing  near  him 
were  riddled  with  balls,  and  his  hat  and  clothes 
pierced  in  several  places. 

We  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  this  one  of 
the  most  gallant  and  courageous  acts  recorded 
in  history,  ancient  or  modern.  When  we  con- 
sider how  near  the  Indians  were,  and  how  rarely 
they  miss  their  aim  in  firing,  the  escape  of  Logan 
seems  almost  miraculous.  He  was  afterward 
engaged  in  numerous  actions  with  the  Indians, 
in  which  he  displayed  a  similar  highhearted 
daring,  fortitude,  and  defiance  of  danger. 

In  the  summer  of  1788,  Logan  conducted  an 
expedition  against  the  northwestern  tribes,  which 
termmated,  however,  in  merely  burning  their 
villages,  and  cutting  up  their  cornfields,  serving 
to  irritate,  but  not  to  subdue  the  enemy.  A 
single  incident  attending  this  expedition  deserves 
to  be  commemorated. 

Upon  approaching  a  large  village  of  the 
Shawnese,  from  which,  as  usual,  most  of  the 
inhabitants  had  fled,  an  old  chief  named  Molun- 
tha,  came  out  to  meet  them,  fantastically  ac- 
coutred in  an  old  cocked  hat,  set  jauntily  upon 
one  side  of  his  head,  and  a  fine  shawl  thrown 
over  his  shouldprs.      He  carried  an  enormous 


A  GALLANT  M;ED  AND  A  RUTHLESS  ONE.       181 

pipe  in  one  hand,  and  a  tobacco-pouch  in  the 
other,  and  strutted  about,  with  the  air  of  an  old 
French  beau,  to  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace  with 
his  enemies. 

Nothing  could  be  more  amusing  than  the 
fearless  confidence  with  which  he  walked 
through  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  Kentuckians, 
evidently  highly  pleased  with  his  own  appear- 
ance, and  enjoying  the  admiration,  which  he 
doubted  not,  that  his  cocked  hat  and  splendid 
shawl  excited.  Many  of  the  Kentuckians  were 
highly  entertained  at  the  mixture  of  dandyism  and 
dignity,  which  the  poor  old  man  exhibited,  and 
shook  hands  with  him  very  cordially. 

Unfortunately,  however,  he  at  length  ap- 
proached Major  McGary,  whose  temper,  never 
particularly  sweet,  was  as  much  inflamed  by  the 
sight  of  an  Indian,  as  that  of  a  wild  bull  by  the 
waving  of  a  red  flag.  It  happened,  unhappily 
too,  that  Moluntha  had  been  one  of  the  chiefs, 
who  commanded  at  the  Blue  Licks;  the  dis- 
astrous defeat  at  which  place,  McGary  had  not 
forgotten. 

Instead  of  giving  his  hand  as  the  others  had 
done,  McGary  scowled  upon  the  old  man,  and 
asked  him,  if  "  he  recollected  the  Blue  Licks !" 


182      A  GALLANT  DEED  AND  A  RUTHLESS  ONE. 

Moluntha  smiled,  and  merely  repeated  the 
word  "  Blue  Licks !"  when  McGary  instantly 
drew  his  tomahawk,  and  cleft  him  to  the  brain. 

The  old  man  received  the  blow  without  flinch- 
ing for  a  second,  and  fell  dead  at  the  feet  of  his 
destroyer.  Great  excitement  instantly  prevailed 
in  the  arrowy.  Some  called  it  a  ruthless  murder. 
Others  swore  that  McGary  had  done  right ;  that 
an  Indian  was  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  human 
being,  but  ought  to  be  shot  down  as  a  wolf 
whenever  and  wherever  he  appeared.  McGary 
himself  raved  like  a  madman  at  the  reproach  of 
his  countrymen,  and  declared,  with  many  bitter 
oaths,  that  he  would  not  only  kill  every  Indian 
whom  he  met,  whether  in  peace  or  war,  at 
church  or  market,  but  that  he  would  equally  as 
readily  tomahawk  the  man  who  blamed  him  for 
the  act 

Nothing  else,  worthy  of  being  mentioned, 
occurred  during  this  expedition;  and  Logan, 
upon  his  return,  devoted  himself  exclusively  to 
the  civil  affairs  of  the  country,  which  about  this 
time  began  to  assume  an  important  aspect. 


Crawford's  disastrous  expedition.       83 


CHAPTER  X. 


CHOLY    END AD^^NTURES   AND    ESCAPE    OF    DR. 

KNIGHT. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1782,  the  Indians 
were  so  troublesome  to  the  back  counties  of 
Pennsylvania  and  Virginia,  that  an  expedition, 
under  Colonel  WilHam  Crawford  was  sent  against 
them.  It  proved  unsuccessful.  The  American 
officers  believing  that  they  were  greatly  out- 
numbered by  the  enemy,  resolved  upon  a  retreat; 
it  was  commenced,  but  soon  degenerated  into  a 
rout.  The  cavalry  were  broken,  and  every  man 
strove  to  save  himself  as  he  best  could. 

Dr.  Knight,  the  surgeon  of  the  detachment, 
was  in  the  rear  when  the  flight  began,  but  see- 
ing the  necessity  of  despatch,  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  and  galloped  through  the  wood  as  fast  as 
the  darkness  of  the  night  would  permit.    He  had 


184 


not  advanced  far,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of 
Colonel  Crawford,  calling  aloud  for  his  son  John 
Crawford,  his  son-in-law  Major  Harrison,  and 
his  two  nephews.  Major  Rose,  and  William 
Crawford.  Dr.  Knight  replied  in  the  same  loud 
tone,  that  he  believed  the  young  men  were  in 
front. 

"  Is  that  you,  doctor  ?"  asked  Crawford, 
eagerly ;  for  no  features  could  be  recognised  in 
the  darkness. 

"  Yes,  colonel !  I  am  the  hindmost  man,  I  be- 
lieve." 

"  No,  no !"  replied  Crawford,  anxiously,  "  my 
son  is  in  the  rear  yet.  I  have  not  been  able  to 
hear  of  him  in  front.  Do  not  leave  me,  doctor. 
My  horse  has  almost  given  out.  I  cannot  keep 
up  with  the  troops,  and  wish  a  few  of  my  best 
friends  to  stay  with  me." 

Knight  assured  him,  that  he  might  rely  upon 
his  support  in  any  extremity,  and  drew  up  his 
horse  by  his  side.  Presently,  an  old  man  and  a 
lad  joined  them.  Crawford  eagerly  asked  if  they 
had  seen  his  son  or  nephew.  They  assured  him 
they  had  not,  upon  which  he  sighed  deeply,  but 
made  no  reply. 

Crossing  Sandusky  creek,  they  proceeded  on 
foot,  and  fell  in  with  Captain  Biggs,  an  expert 


185 

woodsman  and  gallant  officer,  who,  in  the  uni- 
versal scattering  had  generously  brought  off  a 
wounded  officer.  Lieutenant  Ashley,  upon  his 
own  horse,  and  was  now  composedly  walking 
by  his  side,  with  a  rifle  in  his  hand  and  a  knap- 
sack on  his  shoulders.  This  casual  meeting  was 
gratifying  to  both  parties,  and  they  continued 
their  flight  with  renewed  spirits. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  a  heavy  rain 
fell,  compelKng  them  to  encamp.  A  temporary 
shelter  was  formed  by  barking  several  trees, 
after  the  manner  of  the  Indians,  and  spreading 
the  bark  over  holes  so  as  to  form  a  roof.  A 
fire  was  kindled,  and  the  rain  continued  to  pour 
down  in  torrents.  They  remained  here  through 
the  night,  without  any  accident. 

Continuing  their  route  the  next  morning,  they 
found  a  deer,  which  had  recently  been  killed  and 
skinned.  They  cooked  it,  and  made  a  hearty 
breakfast. 

By  noon,  they  had  reached  the  path,  by  which 
the  army  had  marched  a  few  days  before.  Biggs 
and  the  doctor  strongly  advised  that  they  should 
avoid  all  beaten  paths,  and  continue  their  course 
through  the  woods;  but  Crawford  overruled 
them,  assuring  them,  that  the  Indians  would  not 
liige  the  pursuit  beyond  the  plains,  which  were 


already  far  behind.  Unfortunately,  Crawford 
prevailed.  The  party  took  the  beaten  path. 
Crawford  and  Knight  moved  one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  in  front.  Biggs  and  his  wounded 
friend  Ashley  were  in  the  centre,  the  doctor 
having  lent  Biggs  his  hoi^e.  Two  men  on  foot 
brought  up  the  rear 

They  soon  had  reason  to  repent  of  their 
temerity.  Scarcely  had  they  advanced  a  mile, 
when  several  Indians  sprung  up  within  twenty 
yards  of  Knight  and  Crawford,  presented  their 
guns,  and,  in  good  English,  ordered  them  to  stop. 
Knight  instantly  sprung  behind  a  large  tree, 
cocked  his  gun,  and  began  to  take  aim  at  the 
foremost.  Crawford,  however,  did  not  attempt 
to  conceal  himself;  but  calling  hastily  to  Knight, 
ordered  him  twdce  not  to  fire.  Instantly,  the 
Indian,  at  whom  Knight  had  taken  aim,  ran  up 
to  the  colonel  with  every  demonstration  of  friend- 
ship, shook  his  hand  cordially,  and  asked  hira 
how  he  did.  Knight  still  maintaining  a  hostile 
attitude  behind  the  tree,  Crawford  called  to  him 
again,  and  ordered  him  to  put  down  his  gun. 
The  doctor  reluctantly  obeyed. 

Biggs  and  Ashley,  seeing  the  condition  of 
their  friends,  halted,  while  the  two  men  in  the 
rear  very  prudently   took   to   their   heels   and 


Crawford's  disastrous  expedition       187 

escaped.  One  ot  the  Indians  then  told  Craw- 
ford to  order  Biggs  to  come  up  and  surrender  or 
jhey  would  kill  him.  The  colonel  complied,  but 
Biggs,  feeling  no  inclination  to  obey  his  com- 
mander in  the  present  instance,  very  coolly  cocked 
nis  rifle,  took  deliberate  aim  at  one  of  the  Indi- 
ans, and  fired,  although  without  effect.  He  and 
Ashley  then  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  and,  for 
the  time,  escaped.  The  two  prisoners  were  taken 
to  the  Indian  camp,  which  stood  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  place  where  they  were  captured. 
The  next  evening,  five  Delawares  came  in  with 
the  scalps  and  horses  of  Biggs  and  Ashley,  who, 
it  appeared,  had  returned  to  the  road,  and  were 
intercepted  a  few  miles  farther  on. 

In  the  morning,  Crawford  and  Knight,  to- 
gether with  nine  more  prisoners,  were  conducted 
by  their  captors  to  the  old  town  of  Sandusky, 
about  thirty-three  miles  distant.  The  main  body 
halted  at  night,  within  eight  miles  of  the  village, 
but  as  Colonel  Crawford  expressed  great  anxiety 
to  speak  with  Simon  Girty  who  was  then  at 
Sandusky,  he  was  permitted  to  go  there  that  even- 
ing, under  the  care  of  two  Indians.  On  Tues- 
day morning,  the  eleventh  of  June,  he  was  brought 
back  from  Sandusky  solely  for  the  purpose  of 
being  marched  into  the   town  with   the   other 


188 

prisoners.  Knight  eagerly  accosted  him,  asking 
if  he  had  seen  Girty. 

The  colonel  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and 
added  that  Girty  had  promised  to  use  his  utmost 
influence  tor  his  safety,  but  was  fearful  of  the 
consequences,  as  the  Indians  generally,  and  par- 
ticularly Captain  Pipe,  one  of  the  Delaware 
chiefs,  were  much  incensed  against  the  prison- 
ers, and  were  endeavoring  to  have  them  all 
burnt.  The  colonel  added,  that  he  had  heard 
of  his  son-in-law.  Colonel  Harrison,  and  his 
nephew,  William  Crawford,  both  of  whom  had 
been  taken  by  the  Shawnese  and  admitted  to 
mercy.  Soon  after  this  communication,  their 
arch-enemy.  Captain  Pipe,  entered.  His  ap- 
pearance was  by  no  means  unprepossessing,  and 
he  exhibited  none  of  the  ferocity,  which,  from 
Girty's  account,  they  had  been  led  to  expect. 

His  manners,  on  the  contrary,  were  bland,  and 
his  language  flattering.  But  one  ominous  cir- 
cumstance attended  his  visit.  With  his  own 
hands,  he  'painted  every  'prisoner  black.  While 
in  the  act  of  painting  the  doctor,  he  was  as  po- 
lite as  a  French  valet,  assuring  him  that  he 
should  soon  go  to  the  Shawnee  town  and  see 
his  friends ;  and,  while  painting  the  colonel,  he 
gave  him  to  understand  that  he  should  be  adopted 


Crawford's  disastrous  expedition.       189 

as  soon  as  he  arrived  at  the  Wyandot  town. 
The  prisoners  having  now  been  painted  were 
conducted  toward  the  town,  Captain  Pipe  walk- 
ing by  the  side  of  Crawford,  and  treating  him 
with  the  utmost  politeness,  while  the  other  prison- 
ers, with  the  exception  of  Doctor  Knight,  were 
pushed  on  ahead  of  him. 

As  they  advanced,  they  were  shocked  at  ob- 
serving the  bodies  of  four  of  their  friends,  who 
had  just  left  them,  tomahawked  and  scalped,  with 
an  interval  of  nearly  a  mile  between  them  sever- 
ally. They  had  evidently  been  killed  in  run- 
ning the  gauntlet.  This  spectacle  was  regarded 
as  a  sad  presage  of  their  own  fate. 

In  a  short  time  they  overtook  the  five  prisoners 
who  remained  alive.  They  were  seated  on 
the  ground,  and  appeared  much  dejected.  Nearly 
seventy  squaws  and  Indian  boys  surrounded  them, 
menacing  them  with  knives  and  tomahawks,  and 
exhausting  upon  them  every  abusive  epithet, 
which  their  language  afforded.  Crawford  and 
Knight  were  compelled  to  sit  down  apart  from 
the  rest,  and,  immediately  afterward,  the  doctor 
was  given  to  a  Shawnese  warrior,  to  be  con- 
ducted to  their  town,  while  the  colonel  remained 
stationary. 

The  boys  and  squaws  then  fell  upon  the  other 


190 


prisoners  and  tomahawked  them  in  a  moment 
Among  them  was  Captain  McKinley,  who  had 
served  with  reputation  throughout  the  revolu- 
tionary w^ar  until  the  capture  of  Cornw^allis. 
An  old  withered  hag  approached  him,  brandish- 
ing a  long  knife  ;  and,  seizing  him  by  the  hair, 
instantly  cut  off  his  head,  and  kicked  it  near  the 
spot  where  Crawford  sat,  in  momentary  expect- 
ation of  a  similar  fate.  Another  destiny,  how^- 
ever,  was  reserved  for  him.  He  was  marched 
toward  the  \allage. 

Presently,  Girty  appeared  on  horseback,  com- 
ing from  Sandusky.  He  stopped  for  a  few  mo- 
ments and  spoke  to  Crawford ;  then,  passing  to 
the  rear  of  the  party,  addressed  Knight : — 

"  Is  this  the  doctor?"  inquired  he,  with  an  in- 
sulting smile. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Girty;  I  am  glad  to  see  you!" 
rephed  poor  Knight,  advancing  and  anxiously 
extending  his  hand. 

But  Gii'ty  cursed  him  in  a  savage  tone,  and 
ordered  him  to  be  gone.  Upon  this,  the  Shawnese 
warrior,  who  had  him  in  custody,  dragged  him 
along  by  a  rope.  Girty  followed  on  horseback, 
and  informed  him  that  he  was  to  go  to  Chilli- 
cothe.  Presently,  they  came  to  a  spot  where 
there  was  a  large  fire,  around  which  about  thirty 


HIS   MELANCHOLY    END.  191 

warriors  and  more  than  double  that  number  of 
boys  and  squaws  were  collected. 

As  soon  as  Crawford  arrived,  they  surrounded 
him,  stripped  him  naked,  and  compelled  him  to 
sit  on  the  ground  near  the  fire.  They  then  fell 
upon  him,  and  beat  him  severely  with  sticks,  and 
their  fists.  In  a  few  minutes  a  large  stake  was 
fixed  in  the  ground,  and  piles  of  hickory  poles 
were  spread  around  it.  Colonel  Crawford's 
hands  were  then  tied  behind  his  back ;  a  strong 
rope  was  produced,  one  end  of  which  was  fasten- 
ed to  the  ligature  between  his  wrists,  and  the 
other  tied  to  the  bottom  of  the  stake.  The  rope 
was  long  enough  to  permit  him  to  w^alk  round 
the  stake  several  times.  Fire  was  now  applied 
to  the  hickory  poles,  which  lay  at  the  distance 
of  six  or  seven  yards  from  the  stake. 

The  colonel,  observing  these  terrible  prepara- 
tions, called  to  Girty,  who  sat  on  horseback,  at 
the  distance  of  a  few  yards  from  the  fire,  and 
asked  if  the  Indians  were  going  to  burn  him 
Girty  very  coolly  replied  in  the  affirmative. 
The  colonel  received  the  intelligence  with  firm- 
ness. 

When  the  hickory  poles  had  been  burnt 
asunder  in  the  middle.  Captain  Pipe  rose  and 
addressed  the  crowd,  in  a  tone  of  great  energy, 


192 


and  with  animated  gestures,  pointing  frequently 
to  the  colonel,  who  regarded  him  with  an  ap- 
pearance of  unruffled  composure.  As  soon  as 
the  speaker  had  ended,  a  loud  whoop  burst  from 
the  assembled  throng,  and  they  all  rushed  at 
once  upon  the  unfortunate  Crawford.  For 
several  seconds,  the  crowd  was  so  great  around 
him,  that  Knight  could  not  see  what  they  were 
doing ;  but  in  a  short  time  they  dispersed  suffi- 
ciently to  give  him  a  view  of  the  horrid  spectacle. 
The  ears  of  the  prisoner  had  been  cut  off,  and 
the  blood  was  streaming  down  each  side  of  his 
face.  A  terrible  scene  of  torture  now  com- 
menced. The  warriors  shot  charges  of  powder 
into  his  naked  body,  commencing  with  the  calves 
of  his  legs,  and  continuing  to  his  neck.  The 
boys  snatched  the  hickory  poles  and  applied 
them  to  his  flesh.  As  fast  as  he  ran  around  the 
stakes,  to  avoid  one  party  of  tormentors,  he  was 
promptly  met  at  every  turn  by  others,  with  burn- 
ing poles,  red  hot  irons,  and  rifles  loaded  with 
powder  only;  so  that  in  a  few  minutes,  nearly 
one  hundred  charges  of  powder  had  been  shot 
into  his  body,  which  had  become  black  and 
blistered  in  a  dreadful  manner.  The  squaws 
tvould  take  up  a  quantity  of  coals  and  hot  ashes, 


HIS   MELANCHOLY    END.  193 

and  throw  them  upon  his  body,  so  that  he  had 
soon  nothing  but  fire  to  walk  upon. 

In  the  extremity  of  his  agony,  the  unhappy 
Crawford  called  aloud  upon  Girty,  in  tones 
which  rang  through  Knight's  brain  for  years  with 
maddening  effect: — 

"  Girty !  Girty ! !  shoot  me  through  the  heart ! 
Now  !     Quick !  quick  !     Do  not  refuse  me  !" 

"  Don't  you  see  I  have  no  gun,  colonel  ?"  re- 
plied the  monster,  bursting  into  a  laugh ;  and 
then  turning  to  an  Indian  beside  him,  he  uttered 
some  brutal  jests  upon  the  naked  and  miserable 
appearance  of  the  prisoner. 

While  this  awful  scene  was  proceeding,  Girty 
rode  up  to  Knight,  and  told  him,  that  he  now 
had  a  foretaste  of  what  was  in  reserve  for  him- 
self, at  the  Shawnee  town. 

Knight,  who  was  deeply  agitated  at  the  sight, 
kept  silence.  Girty  then  indulged  in  a  bitter  invec- 
tive against  a  certain  Colonel  Gibson,  from  whom 
he  said  he  had  received  deep  injuries  ;  and  dwelt 
upon  the  delight  with  which  he  would  see  him 
undergo  such  torments  as  those  which  Crawford 
was  then  suffering.  He  observed,  in  a  taunting 
tone,  that  most  of  the  prisoners,  had  said,  that 
the  white  people  would  not  injure  him,  if  the 
chance  of  w^ar  were  to  throw  him  into  their 
12—13 


194 


power ;  but  that  for  his  own  part  he  should  ht 
loath  to  try  the  experiment. 

"  I  think,"  added  he  with  a  laugh,  "  that  they 
would  roast  me  alive  with  more  pleasure  than 
those  red  fellows  are  now  broiling  the  colonel. 
What  is  your  opinion,  doctor  ?  Do  you  think 
they  w^ould  be  glad  to  see  me  ?" 

Still  Knight  made  no  answer ;  and  Girty,  in 
a  few  minutes,  rejoined  the  Indians. 

The  terrible  scene  had  now  lasted  more  than 
two  hours,  and  Crawford  had  become  much  ex- 
hausted. He  walked  slowly  around  the  stake, 
spoke  in  a  low  tone,  and  earnestly  besought  God 
to  look  with  compassion  upon  him,  and  pardon 
his  sins.  His  nerves  had  lost  much  of  their  sen- 
sibility, and  he  no  longer  shrunk  from  the  fire- 
brands. At  length  he  sank  in  a  fainting  fit  and 
remained  motionless. 

Instantly  an  Indian  sprung  upon  his  back, 
knelt  hghtly  upon  one  knee,  made  a  circular  in- 
cision with  his  knife  upon  the  crown  of  his  head, 
and  clapping  the  knife  between  his  teeth,  tore 
the  scalp  off  with  both  his  hands.  Scarcely  had 
this  been  done,  when  a  withered  hag  approached 
with  a  board  full  of  burning  embers,  and  poured 
them  upon  the  crown  of  his  head,  now  laid  bare 
to  the  bone.     Crawford  groaned  deeply,  arose, 


ADVENTURES  AND  ESCAPE  OF  DOCTOR  KNIGHT.     195 

and  again  walked  slowly  ro\md  the  stake.  But 
why  continue  so  horrible  a  description  ?  Nature 
at  length  could  endure  no  more,  and  at  a  late 
hour  in  the  night,  he  was  relieved  from  his  suf- 
ferings by  death. 

At  sunset,  Knight  was  removed  from  the 
ground,  and  taken  to  the  house  of  Captain  Pipe, 
where,  after  having  been  securely  bound,  he  was 
permitted  to  sleep  unmolested.  The  next  morn- 
ing, the  Indian,  to  whose  care  he  had  been  com- 
mitted, unbound  him,  again  painted  him  black, 
and  told  him  he  must  instantly  march  off  for  the 
Shawnee  village.  The  doctor  was  a  small,  weak 
man,  or  he  probably  would  have  had  more  than 
one  guard  placed  over  him  He  was  on  foot, 
his  conductor  well  armed  and  mounted ;  yet 
the  doctor  determined  to  effect  his  escape,  or 
compel  his  enemy  to  shoot  him  dead  upon  the 
spot. 

After  travelhng  about  twenty  five  miles,  they 
encamped  for  the  night,  when  Knight  permitted 
himself  to  be  bound.  The  Indian,  who,  by  the 
way,  seems  to  have  been  something  of  a  simple- 
ton, then  informed  him,  that  they  would  reach 
the  Shawnee  village  about  the  middle  of  the 
next  day.  He  then  composed  himself  as  if  to 
sleep.      Knight  frequently   attempted  to  untie 


nimself,  but  was  as  often  frustrated  by  the  iri« 
cessant  vigilance  of  the  Indian,  whose  dark  eyes 
were  roUing  around  him  throughout  the  whole 
night. 

At  daylight,  the  Indian  rose  and  unbound  his 
prisoner,  who  instantly  determined  to  attempt 
an  escape  without  further  delay.  His  conductor 
did  not  immediately  leave  the  spot,  but  began 
to  rekindle  their  fire,  which  had  burnt  low,  and 
employed  himself  diligently  in  giving  battle  to 
the  myriads  of  gnats,  that  swarmed  around  him, 
and  fastened  upon  his  naked  body  with  high 
relish.  Knight  seeing  him  rub  his  back  with 
great  energy,  muttering  petulantly  in  the  Indian 
tongue,  asked  if  he  should  make  a  smoke  behind 
him,  in  order  to  drive  the  gnats  away. 

The  Indian  told  him  to  do  so,  and  Knight, 
rising  from  his  seat,  took  the  end  of  a  dogwood 
fork  about  eighteen  inches  in  length,  and  putting 
a  coal  of  fire  between  it  and  another  stick,  went 
behind  the  Indian  as  if  to  kindle  a  fire.  Gently 
laying  down  the  coal,  he  paused  a  moment  to 
collect  his  strength,  and  then  struck  the  Indian 
a  furious  blow  upon  the  back  of  the  head,  with 
the  dogwood  stick.  The  fellow  stumbled  for- 
ward, and  fell  with  his  hands  in  the  fire,  bu* 
mstantly  rising  again,  ran  off  with  great  rapidity, 


ADVENTURES  AND  ESCAPE  OF  DOCTOR  KNIGHT.   197 

howling  most  dismally.  Knight  thereupon  seized 
the  rifle  which  his  enemy  had  abandoned,  and 
pursued  him,  intending  to  shoot  him  dead  on 
the  spot,  and  thus  prevent  pursuit ;  but,  in  draw- 
ing back  the  cock  of  the  gun  too  violently,  he 
injured  it  so  much  that  it  would  not  go  oflf;  and 
the  Indian,  frightened  out  of  his  wits,  and  leap- 
ing and  dodging  with  the  activity  of  a  wildcat, 
at  length  effected  his  escape. 

On  the  same  day  about  noon,  as  Knight  after- 
ward learned  from  a  prisoner  who  eflfected  his 
escape,  the  Indian  arrived  at  the  Shawnee  vil- 
lage, with  his  head  dreadfully  cut,  and  his  legs 
torn  by  the  briers.  He  proved  to  be  a  happy 
mixture  of  the  braggadocio  and  coward,  and 
treated  his  fellows  with  a  magnificent  description 
of  his  contest  with  Knight,  whom  he  represented 
as  a  giant  in  stature,  and  a  buffalo  in  strength 
and  fierceness.  He  said  that  Knight  prevailed 
upon  him  to  untie  him,  and  that  while  they  were 
conversing  like  brothers,  the  former  suddenly 
seized  a  dogwood  sapling,  and  belabored  him 
until  he  was  scarcely  able  to  stand.  That, 
nevertheless,  he  made  a  manful  resistance,  and 
stabbed  his  gigantic  antagonist  twice,  once  in 
the  back,  and  once  in  the  belly,  but  seeing  that 
his  knife  made  no  impression  upon  the  strength 


of  the  prisoner,  he  was  at  length  compelled  tr 
leave  him,  satisfied  that  the  wounds  he  had  in- 
flicted must  at  length  prove  mortal.  The  Indi- 
ans were  much  diverted  at  this  story,  and  laughed 
loud  and  long,  evidently  not  believing  a  word 
of  it,  at  least  so  far  as  the  fellow's  prowess  was 
concerned. 

In  the  meantime,  Knight  lost  no  time  in  mov- 
mg  oiF  toward  the  northeast.  For  twenty-one 
days  he  managed  to  subsist  upon  berries,  herbs, 
and  such  animal  food  as  he  could  pick  up.  He 
swam  the  Muskingum  a  few  miles  below  Fort 
Lawrence,  and  directed  his  steps  to  the  Ohio 
river.  He  struck  it  a  few  miles  below  Fort  Mc- 
intosh, on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-first  day 
and,  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-second 
reached  the  fort  in  safety. 


A   TUSSLE    WITH  A  WILDCAT.  199 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  TUSSLE  WITH  A  WILDCAT REMARKABLE  CONFLICl 

WITH  AN  INDIAN FEMALE  INTREPIDITY. 

In  1781,  Lexington  was  only  a  cluster  of 
cabins,  one  of  which,  near  the  spot  where  the 
courthouse  now  stands,  was  used  as  a  school- 
house.  One  morning  in  May,  McKinley,  the 
teacher,  was  sitting  alone  at  his  desk,  busily 
engaged  in  writing,  when,  hearing  a  slight  noise 
at  the  door,  he  turned  and  beheld  an  enormous 
wildcat,  with  her  forefeet  upon  the  step,  her  tail 
curled  over  her  back,  her  bristles  erect,  and  her 
eyes  glaring  rapidly  about  the  room,  as  if  in 
search  of  a  mouse. 

McKinley 's  position  at  first  completely  con- 
cealed him,  but  a  slight  and  involuntary  motion 
of  his  chair  attracted  puss's  attention,  and  their 
eyes  met     McKinley  having  heard  much  of  the 


200  A    TUSSLE    »VITH    A    WILDCAT. 

powers  of  "  the  human  face  divine,"  in  quelling 
the  audacity  of  wild  animals,  attempted  to  dis- 
concert the  intruder  by  a  frown.  But  puss  was 
not  to  be  bullied.  Her  eyes  flashed  fire,  her  tail 
waved  angrily,  and  she  began  to  gnash  her  teeth 
"  cantankerously."  She  was  evidently  bent  on 
mischief.  Seeing  his  danger,  McKinley  hastily 
rose,  and  attempted  to  snatch  a  cylindrical  rule 
from  a  table  which  stood  within  reach,  but  the 
cat  was  too  quick  for  him. 

Darting  furiously  upon  him,  she  fastened  upon 
his  side  with  her  teeth,  and  began  to  rend  and 
tear  with  her  claws.  McKinley's  clothes  were 
soon  in  tatters,  and  his  flesh  dreadfully  mangled 
by  the  enraged  animal,  whose  strength  and 
ferocity  filled  him  with  astonishment.  He  in 
vain  attempted  to  disengage  her  from  his  side. 
Her  long  sharp  teeth  were  fastened  between  his 
ribs,  and  his  efforts  served  but  to  enrage  her  the 
more.  Seeing  his  blood  flow  very  copiously 
from  the  numerous  wounds  in  his  side,  he  became 
seriously  alarmed,  and  not  knowing  what  else  to 
do,  he  threw  himself  upon  the  edge  of  the  table 
and  pressed  her  against  the  sharp  corner  with 
the  whole  weight  of  his  body. 

The  cat  now  began  to  utter  the  most  wild  and 
discordant  cries,  and  McKinley,  at  the  same  time, 


A    TUSSLE    WITH   A    WILDCAT.  201 

lifting  up  his  voice  in  concert,  the  two  together 
sent  forth  notes  so  doleful  as  to  alarm  the  w^hole 
town.  Women,  who  are  generally  the  first  to 
hear  and  spread  news,  w^ere  now  the  first  to 
come  to  McKinley's  assistance.  But  so  strange 
and  unearthly  was  the  harmony  within  the  school- 
house,  that  they  hesitated  long  before  venturing 
to  enter.  At  length  the  boldest  of  them  rushed 
in,  and  seeing  poor  McKinley  bending  over  the 
corner  of  the  table,  she  at  first  supposed  that  he 
was  laboring  under  a  severe  fit  of  the  cohc ;  but 
quickly  perceiving  the  cat,  which  was  now  in  the 
agonies  of  death,  she  screamed  out,  "  Why,  good 
heavens,  Mr.  McKinley,  w^hat  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  I  have  caught  a  cat,  madam  !"  rephed  he, 
gravely  turning  round,  while  the  sweat  streamed 
from  his  face  under  the  mingled  operations  of 
fright,  fatigue,  and  pain. 

Most  of  the  neighbors  had  now  arrived  They 
attempted  to  disengage  the  dead  cat;  but  so 
firmly  were  her  tusks  locked  betw^een  his  ribs, 
that  this  was  a  work  of  no  small  diflfiiculty. 
McKinley  suffered  severely  for  a  time  from  the 
effects  of  his  wounds,  but  at  length  fully  re- 
covered, and  lived  to  a  good  old  age.  He  was 
heard  to  say,  that  of  all  the  pupils  that  ever  came 

to  his  school,  the  wildcat  was  the  most  intracta- 
T o 


202     REMARKABLE  CONFLICT  WITH  AN  INDIAN. 

ble ;  that  he  would  at  any  time  rather  fight  two 
Indians  than  one  wildcat 

About  the  same  time,  a  conflict  more  unequal 
and  equally  remarkable,  took  place  in  another 
part  of  the  country.  David  Morgan  had  settled 
upon  the  Monongahela  during  the  early  part  of 
the  revolutionary  war,  and  at  this  time  had  ven- 
tured to  occupy  a  cabin  at  the  distance  of  several 
miles  from  any  settlement 

One  morning,  having  sent  his  younger  chil- 
dren out  to  a  field  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
the  house,  he  became  uneasy  about  them,  and 
repaired  to  the  spot  where  they  were  w^orking. 
He  was  armed  as  usual  with  a  good  rifle.  While 
sitting  upon  the  fence  and  giving  some  directions 
as  to  their  work,  he  observed  two  Indians  upon 
the  other  side  of  the  field  gazing  earnestly  upon 
the  party.  He  instantly  called  to  the  children 
to  make  their  escape,  while  he  should  attempt 
to  cover  their  retreat. 

The  odds  were  greatly  against  him,  as  in 
addition  to  other  circumstances,  he  was  nearly 
seventy  years  of  age,  and  of  course,  unable  to 
contend  with  his  enemies  in  running.  The  house 
was  more  than  a  mile  distant,  but  the  children, 
having  two  hundred  yards  the  start,  and  being 
eifectually  covered  by  their  father,  were  soon  so 


far  in  front,  that  the  Indians  turned  their  atten- 
tion entirely  to  the  old  man.  He  ran  for  several 
hundred  yards  with  an  activity  which  astonished 
himself,  but  perceiving  that  he  would  be  over- 
taken, long  before  he  could  reach  his  home,  he 
fairly  turned  at  bay,  and  prepared  for  a  strenuous 
resistance.  The  woods  through  which  they  were 
running  were  very  thin  and  consisted  almost 
entirely  of  small  trees,  behind  which,  it  was 
difficult  to  obtain  proper  shelter. 

Morgan  had  just  passed  a  large  walnut,  and, 
in  order  to  resist  with  advantage,  it  became 
necessary  to  run  back  about  ten  steps  in  order 
to  regain  it.  The  Indians  were  startled  at  the 
sudden  advance  of  the  fugitive,  and  halted  among 
a  cluster  of  saplings,  where  they  anxiously  strove 
to  shelter  themselves.  This,  however,  was  im- 
possible ;  and  Morgan,  w^ho  was  an  excellent 
marksman,  saw  enough  of  the  person  of  one  of 
them  to  justify  him  in  risking  a  shot.  His  enem;y 
instantly  fell  mortally  wounded. 

The  other  Indian,  taking  advantage  of  Mor 
gan's  empty  gun,  sprung  from  the  shelter  and  ad- 
vanced rapidly  upon  him.  The  old  man,  having  no 
time  to  reload,  was  compelled  to  fly  a  second  time. 
The  Indian  gained  rapidly  upon  him,  and,  w^hen 
within  twenty  steps,  fired,  but  with  so  unsteady 


204      REMARKABLE    CONFLICT   WITH    AN   INDIAN. 

an  aim,  that  Morgan  was  wholly  unhurt,  the  ball 
having  passed  over  his  shoulder. 

He  now  again  stood  at  bay,  clubbing  his  rifle 
for  a  blow,  while  the  Indian,  dropping  his  empty 
gun,  brandished  his  tomahawk  and  prepared  to 
throw  it  at  his  enemy.  Morgan  struck  with  the 
butt  of  his  gun,  and  the  Indian  hurled  his  toma- 
hawk at  one  and  the  same  moment.  Both  blows 
took  effect ;  and  both  of  the  combatants  were  at 
once  wounded  and  disarmed.  The  breech  of  the 
rifle  was  broken  against  the  Indian's  scull,  and 
the  edge  of  the  tomahawk  was  shattered  against 
the  barrel  of  the  rifle,  having  first  cut  off  two 
of  the  fingers  of  Morgan's  left  hand.  The  In- 
dian then  attempting  to  draw  his  knife,  Morgan 
grappled  him  and  bore  him  to  the  ground.  A 
furious  struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  old  man's 
strength  failed,  and  the  Indian  succeeded  in  turn- 
ing him. 

Planting  his  knee  on  the  breast  of  his  enemy, 
and  yelling  loudly,  as  is  usual  with  the  barbari- 
ans upon  any  turn  of  fortune,  he  again  felt  for 
his  knife,  in  order  to  terminate  the  struggle  at 
once  ;  but  having  lately  stolen  a  woman's  apron 
and  tied  it  round  his  waist,  his  knife  was  so  much 
confined,  that  he  had  great  difficulty  in  finding 
the  handle. 


REMARKABLE  CONFLICT   WITH   AN    INDIAN.      205 

Morgan,  in  the  meantime,  bei  ig  an  accom- 
plished pugihst,  and  perfectly  at  home  in  a  ground 
struggle,  took  advantage  of  the  awkwardness  of 
the  Indian,  and  got  one  of  the  fingers  of  his 
right  hand  between  his  teeth.  The  Indian 
tugged  and  roared  in  vain,  struggling  to  extri- 
cate it.  Morgan  held  him  fast,  and  began  to 
assist  him  in  hunting  for  the  knife.  Each  seized 
it  at  the  same  moment,  the  Indian  by  the  blade, 
and  Morgan  by  the  handle,  but  with  a  very  slight 
hold. 

The  Indian  having  the  firmest  hold,  began  to 
draw  the  knife  further  out  of  its  sheath,  when 
Morgan  suddenly  giving  his  finger  a  furious  bite, 
twitched  the  knife  dexterously  through  his  hand, 
cutting  it  severely.  Both  now  sprung  to  their 
feet,  Morgan  brandishing  his  adversary's  knife, 
and  still  holding  his  finger  between  his  teeth.  In 
vain  the  poor  Indian  struggled  to  get  away, 
rearing,  plunging,  and  bolting,  like  an  unbroken 
colt.  The  teeth  of  the  white  man  were  like  a  vise, 
and  he  at  length  succeeded  in  giving  his  savage 
foe  a  stab  in  the  side.  The  Indian  received  it 
without  falling,  the  knife  ha\ing  struck  his  ribs ; 
but  a  second  blow,  aimed  at  the  stomach,  proved 
more  efi'ectual,  and  the  savage  fell.     Morgan 


206       REMARKABLE    CONFLICT   WITH    AN    INDIAN. 

thrust  the  knife,  handle  and  all,  into  the  cavity 
of  the  body,  directed  it  upward,  and  starting  to 
his  feet,  made  the  best  of  his  way  home. 

The  neighborhood  was  quickly  alarmed,  and, 
hurrying  to  the  spot  where  the  struggle  had 
taken  place,  they  found  the  first  Indian  lying 
where  he  had  fallen,  but  the  second  had  disap- 
peared. A  broad  trail  of  blood,  however,  con- 
ducted to  a  fallen  tree  top,  w^ithin  one  hundred 
yards  of  the  spot,  into  which  the  poor  fellow  had 
dragged  himself,  and  where  he  now  lay  bleeding 
but  still  alive.  He  had  plucked  the  knife  from 
his  wound,  and  was  endeavoring  to  dress  it  with 
the  stolen  apron,  which  had  cost  him  his  life, 
when  his  enemies  approached. 

The  love  of  life  appeared  strong  within  him, 
however.  He  greeted  them  with  what  was  in- 
tended for  an  insinuating  smile,  held  out  his  savage 
hand,  and  exclaimed  in  broken  English,  "  How 
de  do,  broder  !  how  de  do  !   glad  to  see  you  !" 

Poor  fellow !  The  love  was  all  on  his  side. 
Their  brotherhood  extended  only  to  tomahawk- 
ing, scalping,  and  skinning  him,  all  of  which 
operations  were  performed  a  few  minutes  after 
the  meeting.  To  such  an  extent  had  mutual 
injuries  inflamed  both  parties  ! 

We  have  now  a  more  ao;reeable  instance  to 


FEMALE    INTREPIDITY.  207 

relate,  illustrating  the  courage  and  patriotism  of 
an  American  female. 

In  1782,  Wheeling  was  besieged  by  a  large 
number  of  British  and  Indians.  So  sudden  and 
unexpected  was  the  attack,  that  no  time  was 
aflforded  for  preparation.  The  fort,  at  the  period 
of  the  assault,  was  commanded  by  Colonel  Silas 
Zane.  The  senior  officer,  Colonel  Ebenezer 
Zane,  was  in  a  blockhouse  some  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred yards  outside  of  the  wall.  The  enemy  made 
several  desperate  assaults  to  break  into  the  fort, 
but  at  every  onset  they  were  driven  back.  The 
ammunition  for  the  defence  of  the  fort  was 
deposited  in  the  blockhouse,  and  there  had 
not  been  time  to  remove  it  before  the  Indians 
approached. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  of  the 
siege,  the  powder  of  the  fort  was  nearly  ex- 
hausted, and  no  alternative  remained  but  for 
some  one  to  pass  through  the  enemy's  fire  to  the 
blockhouse  in  order  to  obtain  a  supply.  When 
Silas  Zane  made  the  proposition  to  the  men, 
asking  if  any  one  would  undertake  the  hazard- 
ous enterprise,  all  at  first  were  silent.  After 
looking  at  one  another  for  some  time,  a  young 
man  stepped  forward,  and  said  he  would  under- 


208  FEMALE    INTREPIDITY. 

take   the  errand.     Immediately,   half  a  dozen 
offered  their  services  in  the  dangerous  enterprise. 

While  they  were  disputing  as  to  who  should 
go,  Elizabeth,  sister  of  the  Zanes,  came  forward 
and  declared  that  she  would  go  for  the  powder. 
Her  brother  thought  she  would  flinch  from  the 
enterprise,  but  he  was  mistaken.  She  had  the 
intrepidity  to  dare,  and  the  fortitude  to  accom- 
plish the  undertaking.  Her  brother  then  tried 
to  dissuade  her  from  her  heroic  purpose,  by  say- 
ing that  a  man  would  be  more  fleet,  and  conse- 
quently would  run  less  risk  of  losing  his  life. 

She  replied,  that  they  had  not  a  man  to  spare 
from  the  defence  of  the  fort,  and  that  if  she 
should  fall,  she  would  scarcely  be  missed.  Then 
divesting  herself  of  such  articles  of  clothing  as 
would  impede  the  celerity  of  her  flight,  she  pre- 
pared to  start. 

The  gate  was  opened,  and  Elizabeth  bounded 
out  at  the  top  of  her  speed,  and  ran  till  she  ar- 
rived at  the  door  of  the  blockhouse.  Her 
brother.  Colonel  Zane,  hastened  to  open  the 
door  to  his  intrepid  sister.  The  Indians  did  not 
lire  a  gun,  but  exclaimed,  as  if  in  astonishment, 
''  Squaw  !  squaw  !  squaw .'" 

When  she  had  told  her  errand,  her  brother 
look  a  tablecloth,  fastened  it  around  her  waist 


FEMALE    INTREPIDITY  209 

and  poured  into  it  a  keg  of  powder.  She  then 
sallied  back  to  the  fort  in  high  spirits.  The  mo- 
ment she  was  outside  of  the  blockhouse,  the 
whole  of  the  enemy's  line  fired  at  her,  but  the 
shower  of  balls  fell  without  doing  her  any  in- 
jury. She  reached  the  fort  in  safety,  and  the 
garrison  was,  in  consequence,  enabled  success- 
fully to  repel  their  savage  foe.  Such  an  instance 
of  female  daring,  is  worthy  of  all  commemora- 
tion. 
12—14 


210    adam  poe's  encounter  with  bio-foot. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

4DAM    poe's    ENCOITNTER    "WITH    BIG-FOOT m'coN- 


About  the  middle  of  July,  1782,  seven  Wyan- 
dots  crossed  the  Ohio,  a  few  miles  above  Wheel- 
ing, and  committed  serious  depredations  upon 
the  southern  shore,  killing  an  old  man  whom 
they  found  alone  in  the  cabin,  and  spreading 
terror  through  the  neighborhood. 

Within  a  few  hours  after  their  retreat,  eight  men 
assembled  from  different  parts  of  the  small  settle- 
ment, and  pursued  the  enemy  with  vigor.  Among 
the  most  active  and  efficient  of  the  party,  were 
two  brothers,  Adam  and  Andrew  Poe.  Adam  was 
particularly  popular.  In  strength,  agility,  and 
hardihood,  he  had  no  equal,  being  finely  formed 
and  inured  to  all  the  perils  of  the  woods.  They 
had  not  followed  the  trail  far,  before  they  became 
satisfied  that  the  depredators  were  conducted  by 
Big-Foot,  a  renowned  chief  of  the   Wyandot 


ADAM   POE's   encounter    WITh   BIG-FOOT.    21] 

tribe,  who  derived  his  name  from  the  immense 
size  of  his  feet.  His  height  considerably  ex- 
ceeded six  feet,  and  his  strength  was  represented 
as  herculean.  He  had  also,  five  brothers,  but 
little  inferior  to  himself  in  size  and  courage,  and 
as  they  generally  went  in  company,  they  were 
the  terror  of  the  whole  country 

Adam  Poe  was  overjoyed  at  the  idea  of  meas- 
uring his  strength  with  that  of  so  celebrated  a 
chief,  and  urged  the  pursuit  with  a  keenness  which 
quickly  brought  him  into  the  vicinity  of  the  enemy. 
For  the  last  few  miles,  the  trail  had  led  them  up 
the  southern  bank  of  the  Ohio,  where  the  foot- 
prints in  the  sand  were  deep  and  obvious ;  but 
when  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  point  at 
which  the  whites  as  well  as  the  Indians  w^ere  in 
the  habit  of  crossing,  it  suddenly  diverged  from 
the  stream,  and  stretched  along  a  rocky  ridge, 
forming  an  obtuse  angle  with  its  former  direc- 
tion. 

Here  Adam  halted  for  a  moment,  and  directed 
his  brother  and  the  other  young  men  to  follow 
the  trail  with  proper  caution,  while  he  himself 
still  adhered  to  the  river  path,  which  led  through 
clusters  of  willows,  directly  to  the  point  where 
he  supposed  the  enemy  to  lie.  Having  examined 
the   piiming   of  his   pjun,   he   crept   cautiously 


212     ADAM    POE'S    ENCOUNTER    WITH    BIG-FOOT. 

through  the  bushes,  until  he  had  a  view  of  the 
point  of  embarkation.  Here  lay  two  canoes, 
empty  and  apparently  deserted.  Being  satisfied, 
however,  that  the  Indians  were  close  at  hand, 
he  relaxed  nothing  of  his  vigilance,  and  quickly 
gained  a  jutting  cliff,  which  hung  immediately 
over  the  canoes.  Hearing  a  low  murmur  below, 
he  peered  cautiously  over,  and  beheld  the  object 
of  his  search.  The  gigantic  Big-Foot,  lay  be- 
low him  in  the  shade  of  a  willow,  and  was  talk- 
ing in  a  deep  low  tone  to  another  warrior,  who 
seemed  a  mere  pigmy  by  his  side. 

Adam  cautiously  drew  back,  and  cocked  his 
gun.  The  mark  was  fair.  The  distance  did  not 
exceed  twenty  feet,  and  his  aim  was  unerring 
Raising  his  rifle  slowly  and  cautiously,  he  took  a 
steady  aim  at  Big-Foot's  breast,  and  drew  the 
trigger.     His  gun  flashed ! 

Both  Indians  sprung  to  their  feet  with  an  ex- 
clamation of  surprise,  and  for  a  second  all  three 
stood  staring  at  one  another.  This  inactivity, 
however,  was  soon  over.  Adam  was  too  much 
hampered  by  the  bushes  to  retreat,  and  setting 
his  life  upon  the  cast  of  the  die,  he  sprung  over 
the  bush  which  had  sheltered  him,  and  sum- 
moning all  his  powers,  leaped  boldly  down  the 


ADAM  FOE'S  ENCOUNTER  WITH  BIG-FOOT       213 

precipice  and  alighted  upon  the  breast  of  Big- 
Foot,  with  a  shock,  which  bore  him  to  the  earth 

At  the  moment  of  contact,  Adam  had  also 
thrown  his  right  arm  around  the  neck  of  the 
smaller  Indian,  so  that  all  three  came  to  the 
earth  together.  At  the  same  time  a  sharp  firing 
was  heard  among  the  bushes  above,  announcing 
that  other  parties  were  engaged,  but  the  trio 
below  were  too  busy  to  attend  to  anything  but 
themselves.  Big-Foot  was,  for  an  instant,  stun- 
ned by  the  violence  of  the  shock,  and  Adam  w^as 
enabled  to  keep  them  both  down  But  the  ex- 
ertion necessary  for  that  purpose  was  so  great, 
that  he  had  no  opportunity  of  using  his  knife. 
Big-Foot  quickly  recovered,  and,  without  at- 
tempting to  rise,  twined  his  long  arms  around 
Adam's  body,  and  pressed  him  to  his  breast  with 
the  crushing  force  of  a  boa-constrictor.  Adam, 
as  we  have  already  remarked,  was  a  powerful 
man,  and  had  seldom  encountered  his  equal,  but 
never  had  he  yet  felt  a  hug  like  that  of  Big- 
Foot. 

He  instantly  relaxed  his  hold  of  the  small 
Indian,  who  sprang  to  his  feet.  Big-Foot  then 
ordered  him  to  run  for  his  tomahawk,  which  lay 
within  ten  steps,  and  kill  the  white  man,  while 
he  held  him  in  his    arms.     Adam,  seeing   his 


214     ADAM  foe's  encounter  WITH  BIG-FOOT. 

danger,  struggled  manfully  to  extricate  himself 
from  the  folds  of  the  giant,  but  in  vain.  The 
smaller  Indian  approached  with  his  uplifted 
tomahawk,  hut  Adam  watched  him  closely,  and, 
as  he  was  about  to  strike,  gave  him  a  kick  so 
sudden  and  violent,  as  to  knock  the  tomahawk 
from  his  hand,  and  send  him  staggering  back 
mto  the  water.  Big-Foot  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion in  a  tone  of  deep  contempt  at  the  failure  of 
his  companion,  and  raising  his  voice  to  its  highest 
pitch,  thundered  out  several  w^ords  in  the  Indian 
tongue,  which  i\dam  could  not  understand,  but 
supposed  to  be  a  direction  for  a  second  attack. 
The  smaller  Indian  now  approached  again, 
carefully  shuiming  Adam's  heels,  and  making 
many  motions  with  his  tomahawk,  in  order  to 
deceive  him  as  to  the  point  where  the  blow 
would  fall.  This  lasted  several  seconds,  until  a 
thundering  exclamation  from  Big-Foot,  com- 
pelled his  companion  to  strike.  Such  were 
Adam's  vigilance  and  dexterity,  however,  that 
he  managed  to  receive  the  tomahawk  in  a  glan- 
cing direction  upon  his  left  wrist,  wounding  him 
deeply,  but  not  disabling  him.  He  now  made  a 
sudden  and  desperate  effort  to  free  himself  from 
the  arms  of  the  giant,  and  succeeded.  The  In- 
dian had  not  ventured  to  shoot  for  fear  of  hurting 


ADAM   foe's  encounter  WITH  EIG-FOOT,     215 

his  companion  ;  and  Adam,  snatching  up  a  rifle, 
instantly  shot  the  smaller  Indian  through  the 
body. 

But  scarcely  had  he  done  so,  when  Big-Foot 
arose,  and  placing  one  hand  upon  his  collar,  and 
the  other  upon  his  hip,  pitched  him  ten  feet  into 
the  air,  as  he  himself  would  have  pitched  a  child. 
Adam  fell  upon  his  back,  at  the  edge  of  the 
water,  but  before  his  antagonist  could  spring 
upon  him,  he  was  again  upon  his  feet,  and,  stung 
with  rage  at  the  idea  of  being  handled  so  easily, 
he  attacked  his  gigantic  antagonist  with  a  fury, 
which,  for  a  time,  compensated  for  inferiority  of 
strength.  It  was  now  a  fair  fist-fight  between 
them,  for,  in  the  hurry  of  the  struggle,  neither 
had  leisure  to  draw  his  knife.  Adam's  superior 
activity  and  experience  as  a  pugilist  gave  him 
great  advantage.  The  Indian  struck  awkwardly, 
ana,  rinding  himself  rapidly  getting  the  worse  of 
the  combat,  he  closed  with  the  white  man  and 
again  hurled  him  to  the  ground. 

They  quickly  rolled  into  the  river,  and  the 
struggle  continued  with  unabated  fury,  each 
attempting  to  drown  the  other.  The  Indian 
being  unused  to  such  violent  exertion,  and  hav- 
ing been  much  injured  by  the  first  shock  in  his 
stomachy  began  to  fail ;  and  Adam  seizing^  him 


216 


by  the  scalp-lock,  put  his  head  under  water  and 
held  it  there,  until  the  faint  struggles  of  the  In- 
dian induced  him  to  believe  that  he  was  drowned: 
when  he  relaxed  his  hold  and  attempted  to  draw 
his  knife.  The  Indian,  however,  to  use  Adam's 
own  expression,  "  had  been  only  possuming." 

Big-Foot  regained  his  feet,  and,  in  his  turn, 
put  his  adversary  under.  In  the  struggle  both 
were  carried  out  into  the  current  beyond  their 
depth,  and  each  was  compelled  to  relax  his  hold 
and  swim  for  his  life.  There  was  still  one  load- 
ed rifle  upon  the  shore,  and  each  swam  hard  in 
order  to  reach  it,  but  the  Indian  proved  the  most 
expert  sw^immer,  and  Adam,  seeing  that  he  should 
be  too  late,  turned  and  swam  out  into  the  stream^, 
intending  to  dive  and  thus  frustrate  his  enemy's 
intention.  At  this  instant,  Andrew,  having 
heard  that  his  brother  was  alone  in  a  struggle 
with  two  Indians,  and  in  great  danger,  ran  up 
hastily  to  the  edge  of  the  bank  above,  in  order 
to  assist  him.  Another  white  man  followed  him 
closely,  and  seeing  Adam  in  the  river,  covered 
with  blood,  and  swimming  rapidly  from  shore, 
mistook  him  for  an  Indian,  and  fired  upon  him, 
wounding  him  dangerously  in  the  shoulder. 

Adam  turned,  and  seeing  his  brother,  called 
loudly  upon  him  to  "  shoot  the  big  Indian  upon  the 


217 

shore."  Andrew's  gun,  however,  was  empty, 
having  just  been  discharged.  Fortunately,  Big- 
Foot  had  seized  the  gun,  with  which  Adam  had 
shot  the  smaller  Indian,  so  that  both  were  upon 
an  equality.  The  contest  now  was  who  should 
load  first. 

Big-Foot  poured  in  his  powder  first,  but  by 
drawing  his  ramrod  out  of  its  sheath  in  too 
great  a  hurry,  he  threw  it  into  the  river,  and 
while  he  ran  to  recover  it,  Andrew  gained  a 
fatal  advantage.  Still  the  Indian  was  but  a 
second  too  late,  for  his  gun  was  at  his  shoulder, 
when  Andrew's  ball  entered  his  breast.  The 
gun  dropped  from  his  hands,  and  he  fell  forward 
upon  his  face  upon  the  very  margin  of  the  river. 

Andrew  now  alarmed  for  his  brother,  who 
was  scarcely  able  to  swim,  threw  down  his  gun, 
and  rushed  into  the  river,  in  order  to  bring  him 
ashore;  but  Adam,  more  intent  upon  securing 
the  scalp  of  Big-Foot,  as  a  trophy,  than  upon  his 
c^wn  safety,  called  loudly  upon  his  brother  to 
leave  him  alone,  and  scalp  the  Indian,  who  was 
now  endeavoring  to  roll  himself  into  the  water, 
from  a  romantic  desire  peculiar  to  the  Indian 
warrior,  of  securing  his  scalp  from  the  enemy 
Andrew,  however,  refused  to  obey,  and  insisted 
UDon  saving  the  living  before  attending  to  thp 


218      m'connel's  capture  and  escape. 

dead.  Big- Foot,  in  the  meantime,  had  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  deep  water  before  he  expired, 
and  his  body  was  borne  off  by  the  waves,  with- 
out being  stripped  of  the  ornament  and  pride  oi 
an  Indian  warrior. 

Not  a  man  of  the  Indians  had  escapeo.  Five 
of  Big-Foot's  brothers,  the  flower  of  the  Wyan- 
dot nation,  had  accompanied  him  in  the  expedi- 
tion, and  all  perished.  It  is  said,  that  the  news  ol 
this  calamity,  threw  the  whole  tribe  into  mourn- 
ing. The  remarkable  size  of  the  brothers,  their 
courage,  and  their  superior  intelligence,  gave 
them  immense  influence,  which,  greatly  to  their 
credit,  was  generally  exerted  on  the  side  of  hu- 
manity. Their  powerful  interposition,  had  saved 
many  prisoners  from  the  stake,  and  had  given  a 
milder  character  to  the  warfare  of  the  Indians 
in  that  part  of  the  country. 

Adam  Poe  recovered  from  his  wounds,  and 
hved  many  years  after  his  memorable  conflict ; 
but  he  never  forgot  the  tremendous  "hug," 
which  he  sustained  in  the  arms  of  Big- Foot. 

Not  one  of  the  least  remarkable  adventures 
experienced  by  our  frontier  settlers,  was  that, 
which  befell  Mr.  Alexander  M'Connel  of  Lex- 
ington, Kentucky.  Early  in  the  spring  of  1780, 
he  went  into  the  woods  on  foot,  to  hunt  deer 


m'cONNEL's  capture  and  E.CAPE.     219 

He  soon  killed  a  large  buck,  and  returned  iome 
for  a  horse  in  order  to  bring  it  in. 

During  his  absence,  a  party  of  five  Indians,  on 
one  of  their  usual  skulking  expeditions,  accident- 
ally stumbled  on  the  body  of  the  deer,  and  perceiv- 
ing that  it  had  been  recently  killed,  they  naturally 
supposed  that  the  hunter  would  speedily  return 
to  secure  the  flesh.  Three  of  them,  therefore, 
took  their  stations  within  close  rifle-shot  of  the 
deer,  while  the  other  two  followed  the  trail  of 
the  hunter,  in  order  to  waylay  him.  M'Connel, 
expecting  no  danger,  rode  carelessly  along  the 
path,  which  the  two  scouts  were  watching,  until 
he  had  come  within  view  of  the  deer,  when  he 
was  fired  upon  by  the  whole  party,  and  his  horse 
killed.  WTiile  laboring  to  extricate  himself  from 
the  dying  animal,  he  was  seized  by  his  enemies, 
instantly  overpowered,  and  borne  oflf  as  a  pris- 
oner. 

His  captors,  however,  seemed  to  be  a  merry, 
goodnatured  set  of  fellows,  and  permitted  him  to 
accompany  them  unbound  ;  and,  what  was  rather 
extraordinary,  allowed  him  to  retain  his  gun  and 
hunting  accoutrements.  He  accompanied  them 
with  great  apparent  cheerfulness  through  the 
lay,  and  displayed  his  dexterity  in  shootinsj  deer 


220 


for  the  use  of  the  company,  until  they  began  to 
regard  him  with  partiaUty. 

Having  travelled  with  them  in  this  manner  for 
several  days,  they  at  length  reached  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio  river.  Heretofore,  the  Indians  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  bind  him  at  night,  al- 
though not  very  securely  ;  but  on  that  evening, 
he  remonstrated  with  them  on  the  subject,  and 
complained  so  much  of  the  pain  which  the  cords 
gave  him,  that  they  merely  wrapped  the  buffalo 
tug  loosely  around  his  wrists,  and  having  tied 
it  in  an  easy  knot,  and  attached  the  extremity  of 
the  rope  to  their  own  bodies,  in  order  to  prevent 
his  moving  without  awakening  them,  they  very 
composedly  went  to  sleep,  leaving  the  prisoner 
to  follow  their  example  or  not,  as  he  pleased. 

M'Connel  determined  to  effect  his  escape  that 
night,  if  possible,  as  on  the  following  night,  they 
would  cross  the  river,  which  w^ould  render  it  much 
more  difficult.  He,  therefore,  lay  quietly  until  mid- 
night, anxiously  ruminating  upon  the  best  means 
of  effecting  his  object.  Accidentally  casting  his 
eyes  in  the  direction  of  his  feet,  they  fell  upon 
the  glittering  blade  of  a  knife,  which  had  slipped 
from  its  sheath,  and  was  now  lying  near  the  feet 
of  one  of  the  Indians.  To  reach  it  with  his 
hands,  without  disturbing  the  two  Indians,  to 


m'connel's  capture  and  escape.      221 

whom  he  was  fastened,  was  impossible,  and  it 
was  very  hazardous  to  attempt  to  draw  it  up 
with  his  feet.  This,  however,  he  attempted. 
With  much  difficulty  he  grasped  the  blade  be- 
tween his  toes,  and,  after  repeated  and  prolonged 
efforts,  succeeded  at  length,  in  bringing  it  within 
reach  of  his  hands. 

To  cut  his  cords  was  then  but  the  work  of  a 
moment,  and  gradually  and  silently  extricating 
his  person  from  the  arms  of  the  Indians,  he 
walked  to  the  fire  and  sat  down.  He  saw  that 
his  work  was  but  half  done.  If  he  should 
attempt  to  return  home  without  destroying  his 
enemies,  he  would  assuredly  be  pursued,  and 
probably  overtaken,  when  his  fate  would  be 
certain.  On  the  other  hand,  it  seemed  almost 
impossible  for  a  single  man  to  succeed  in  a  con- 
flict with  five  Indians,  even  although  unarmed 
and  asleep.  He  could  not  hope  to  deal  a  blow 
'\vith  his  knife  so  silently  and  fatally,  as  to 
destroy  each  one  of  his  enemies  in  turn,  without 
awakening  the  rest.  Their  slumbers  were  pro- 
verbially light  and  restless ;  and  if  he  failed  with 
a  single  one,  he  must  instantly  be  overpowered 
by  the  survivors.  The  knife,  therefore,  was  out 
of  the  question. 

After  anxious  reflection  for  a  few  minutes,  he 


222  m'cONNEL's    capture    and    ESCAPb. 

formed  his  plan.  The  guns  of  the  Indians  were 
stacked  near  the  fire;  their  knives  and  toma- 
hawks Wire  in  sheaths  by  their  sides.  The 
latter  he  dared  not  touch  for  fear  of  awakening 
their  owners ;  but  the  former  he  carefully  re- 
moved, with  the  exception  of  two,  and  hid  them 
in  the  woods,  where  he  knew  the  Indians  would 
not  readily  find  them.  He  then  returned  to  the 
spot  where  the  Indians  were  still  sleeping, 
and,  taking  a  gun  in  each  hand,  he  rested  the 
muzzles  upon  a  log  within  six  feet  of  his  victims, 
and  having  taken  deliberate  aim  at  the  head  of 
one,  and  the  heart  of  another,  he  pulled  both 
triggers  at  the  same  moment. 

Both  shots  were  fatal.  At  the  report  of  their 
guns,  the  others  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  stared 
wildly  around  them.  McConnel,  who  had  in- 
stantly run  to  the  spot  where  the  other  rifles 
were  hid,  hastily  seized  one  of  them  and  fired  at 
two  of  his  enemies,  who  happened  to  stand  in  a 
line  with  each  other.  His  energy  and  self- 
possession  ensured  his  success. 

The  nearest  fell  dead,  being  shot  through  the 
centre  of  the  body ;  the  second  fell  also,  bellow- 
ing loudly,  but  quickly  recovering,  limped  off 
into  the  woods  as  fast  as  possible.  The  fifth, 
and  only  one  who  remained  unhurt,  darted  off 


m'connel's  capture  and  escape.       223 

like  a  deer,  with  a  yell  indicative  of  equal  terror 
and  astonishment.  McConnel,  not  wishing  to 
fight  any  more  such  battles,  selected  his  own 
rifle  from  the  stack,  and  made  the  best  of  his 
way  to  Lexington,  where  he  arrived  safely  within 
two  days.  His  story  was  at  first  received  by  some 
with  incredulity ;  but  subsequent  circumstances 
confirmed  it.  It  shows  what  may  be  effected  in 
a  moment  of  extreme  peril  by  boldness  and  self- 
possession.  Many  persons,  in  their  agitation, 
would  have  forgotten  to  conceal  the  weapons  of 
the  Indians,  or  would  have  fled  without  under- 
taking to  place  themselves  out  of  the  reach  of 
danger,  by  an  act  severe  but  necessary 


224  A   FAMILY   ATTACKED 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

A   FAMILY  ATTACKED  —  A   WILD  WHITE  MAN SIN- 
GULAR   DEFENCE. 

On  the  night  of  the  eleventh  of  April,  1787, 
the  house  of  a  widow  in  Bourbon  county,  Ken- 
tucky, became  the  scene  of  a  deplorable  adven- 
ture. The  name  of  the  widow  was  Scraggs. 
She  occupied  what  was  called  a  double  cabin, 
in  a  lonely  part  of  the  county.  One  room  was 
tenanted  by  the  old  lady  herself,  together  with 
two  grown  sons,  and  a  widowed  daughter  with 
an  infant.  The  other  room  was  occupied  by 
two  unmarried  daughters  from  sixteen  to  twenty 
years  of  age,  together  with  a  little  girl. 

The  hour  was  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  One 
of  the  unmarried  daughters  was  still  busily  en- 
gaged at  the  loom,  but  the  other  members  of  the 
family,  with  the  exception  of  one  of  the  sons, 


A    FAMILY    ATTACKED.  22^ 

had  retired  to  rest.  Some  symptoms  of  an 
alarming  nature  had  engaged  the  attention  of 
the  young  man  for  an  hour  before  anything  of 
a  decided  character  took  place. 

The  cry  of  owls  was  heard  in  the  adjoining 
wood,  answering  each  other  in  rather  an  unusual 
manner.  The  horses,  which  were  enclosed  as 
usual  in  a  pound  near  the  house,  were  more 
than  commonly  excited,  and  by  repeated  snort- 
ing and  galloping,  announced  the  presence  of 
some  object  of  terror.  The  young  man  was 
often  upon  the  point  of  awakening  his  brother,  but 
w&s  as  often  restrained  by  the  fear  of  incurring 
ridicule,  and  the  reproach  of  timidity,  at  that 
time  an  unpardonable  blemish  in  the  character 
of  a  Kentuckian.  At  length  hasty  steps  were 
heard  in  the  yard,  and  quickly  afterward  several 
loud  knocks  at  the  door,  accompanied  by  the 
usual  exclamation, "  Who  keeps  house  V*  in  very 
good  English. 

The  young  man,  supposing  from  the  language 
that  some  benighted  travellers  were  at  the  door, 
hastily  arose,  and  was  advancing  to  withdraw 
the  bar  that  secured  it,  when  his  mother,  who 
had  long  lived  upon  the  frontier,  and  had  prob- 
ably detected  the  Indian  tone  in  the  demand  for 
admission,  instantly  sprang  out  of  bed,  and 
12-15 


226  A    FAMILY    ATTACKED. 

ordered  her  son  not  to  admit  them,  declaring  thai 
they  were  Indians. 

She  instantly  awakened  her  other  son,  and  the 
two  young  men  seizing  their  guns,  which  were 
always  charged,  prepared  to  repel  the  enemy. 
The  Indians,  finding  it  impossible  to  enter  under 
their  assumed  characters,  began  to  thunder  at 
the  door  with  great  violence ;  but  a  single  shot 
from  a  loop-hole,  compelled  them  to  shift  the 
attack  to  some  less  exposed  point ;  and,  unfortu- 
nately, they  discovered  the  door  of  the  other 
cabin,  which  contained  the  three  daughters.  The 
rifles  of  the  brothers  could  not  be  brought  to 
bear  on  this  point,  and,  by  means  of  several  rails 
taken  from  the  yard  fence,  the  door  was  forced 
from  the  hinges,  and  the  three  girls  were  at  the 
mercy  of  the  savages.  One  was  instantly  secm-ed, 
but  the  eldest  defended  herself  desperately  with 
a  knife,  which  she  had  been  using  at  the  loom, 
and  stabbed  one  of  the  Indians  to  the  heart,  be- 
fore she  was  tomahawked. 

In  the  meantime,  the  httle  girl,  who  had  been 
overlooked  by  the  enemy  in  their  eagerness  to 
secure  the  others,  ran  out  into  the  yard,  and 
might  have  effected  her  escape,  had  she  taken 
advantage  of  the  darkness  and  fled  ;  but  instead 
of  looking  to  her  own  safety,  the  terrified  little 


A   FAMILY    ATTACKED  227 

creature  ran  round  the  house,  wringing  her  hands 
and  crying  that  her  sisters  were  killed.  The 
brothers,  unable  to  hear  her  cries,  without  risk- 
ing everything  for  her  rescue,  rushed  to  the 
door,  and  were  preparing  to  sally  out  to  her  as- 
sistance, when  their  mother  threw  herself  before 
them,  and  calmly  declared  that  the  child  must 
be  abandoned  to  its  fate ;  that  the  sally  would 
sacrifice  the  lives  of  all  the  rest,  without  being 
of  the  shghtest  benefit  to  the  httle  girl. 

Just  then  the  child  uttered  a  loud  scream,  fol- 
lowed by  a  few  faint  moans,  and  all  was  silent. 
Presently  the  crackling  of  flames  was  heard,  ac- 
companied by  a  triumphant  yell  from  the  Indi- 
ans, announcing  that  they  had  set  fire  to  that 
division  of  the  house,  which  had  been  occupied 
by  the  daughters,  and  of  which  they  held  undis- 
puted possession. 

The  fire  was  quickly  communicated  to  the  rest 
of  the  building,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
abandon  it  or  perish  in  the  flames.  The  rapid 
approach  of  the  fire  cut  short  their  momentary 
suspense.  The  door  was  thrown  open,  and  the 
old  lady,  supported  by  her  eldest  son,  attempted  to 
cross  the  fence  at  one  point,  while  her  daughter 
carrying  her  child  in  her  arms,  and  attended  by 
the  younger  of  the  brothers,  ran  in  a  different  di- 


228  A   FAMILY   ATTACKED. 

rection.  The  blazing  roof  shed  a  light  over 
the  yard,  but  little  inferior  to  that  of  day,  and 
the  savages  were  distinctly  seen  awaiting  the 
approach  of  their  victims.  The  old  lady  was 
permitted  to  reach  the  stile  unmolested,  but  in 
the  act  of  crossing,  received  several  balls  in  her 
breast,  and  fell  dead.  Her  son,  providentially, 
remained  unhurt,  and,  by  extraordinary  agility, 
effected  his  escape. 

The  other  party  succeeded  also  in  reaching 
the  fence  unhurt,  but  in  the  act  of  crossing  were 
vigorously  assailed  by  several  Indians,  who, 
throwing  down  their  guns,  rushed  upon  them 
with  their  tomahawks.  The  young  man  defended 
his  sister  gallantly,  firing  upon  the  enemy  as 
they  approached,  and  then  wielding  the  butt  of 
his  rifle  with  a  fury  that  drew  their  whole  atten- 
tion upon  himself,  and  gave  his  sister  an  oppor- 
tunity of  effecting  her  escape.  He  quickly  fell, 
however,  under  the  tomahawks  of  his  enemies, 
and  was  found  at  daylight  scalped  and  mangled 
in  a  shocking  manner.  Of  the  whole  family 
consisting  of  eight  persons,  only  three  escaped 
Four  were  killed  upon  the  spot,  and  one,  the 
second  daughter,  carried  off  as  a  prisoner. 

The  neighborho()d  was  quickly  alarmed,  and, 
by  daylight,  about  thirty  men  were  assembled 


A   FAMILY   ATTACKED.  229 

under  the  command  of  Colonel  Edwards.  A 
light  snow  had  fallen  during  the  latter  part  of 
the  night,  and  the  Indian  trail  could  be  pursued 
at  a  gallop.  It  led  directly  into  the  mountainous 
country  bordering  upon  Licking,  and  afforded 
evidences  of  great  hurry  and  precipitation  on  the 
part  of  the  fugitives.  Unfortunately,  a  hound 
had  been  permitted  to  follow  the  whites,  and  as 
the  trail  became  fresh,  and  the  scent  warm,  she 
followed  it  with  eagerness,  baying  loudly  and 
giving  the  alarm  to  the  Indians.  The  conse- 
quences of  this  imprudence  were  soon  manifest. 
The  enemy  finding  the  pursuit  keen,  and  per- 
ceiving that  the  strength  of  their  prisoner  began 
to  fail,  instantly  sunk  their  tomahawks  in  her 
head,  and  left  her,  still  w^arm  and  bleeding,  upon 
the  snow. 

As  the  whites  came  up,  she  retained  strength 
enough  to  wave  her  hand  in  token  of  recognition, 
and  appeared  desirous  of  giving  them  some  in- 
formation, with  regard  to  the  enemy,  but  her 
strength  was  too  far  gone.  Her  brother  sprang 
from  his  horse  and  knelt  by  her  side,  endeavor- 
ing to  stop  the  effusion  of  blood,  but  in  vain. 
She  gave  him  her  hand,  muttered  some  inartic- 
ulate words,  and  expired  within  two  minutes 
of  the  arrival  of  the  party. 


230  A   FAMILY   ATTACKED. 

The  pursuit  was  renewed  with  additional  vigoi , 
and,  in  twenty  minutes,  the  enemy  were  within 
view.  They  had  taken  possession  of  a  steep 
narrow  ridge  and  seemed  desirous  of  magnifying 
their  numbers  in  the  eyes  of  the  whites,  as  they 
ran  rapidly  from  tree  to  tree,  and  maintained  a 
steady  yell  in  their  most  appalling  tones.  The 
pursuers,  however,  were  too  experienced  to  be 
deceived  by  so  common  an  artifice,  and  being 
satisfied  that  the  number  of  the  enemy  must  be 
inferior  to  their  own,  they  dismounted,  tied  their 
horses,  and  flanking  out  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
enclose  the  enemy,  ascended  the  ridge  as  rapidly 
as  was  consistent  with  a  due  regard  to  the  shelter 
of  their  persons. 

The  firing  quickly  commenced,  and  now,  for 
the  first  time,  they  discovered  that  only  two  In- 
dians were  opposed  to  them.  These  had  volun- 
tarily sacrificed  themselves  for  the  safety  of  the 
main  body,  and  had  succeeded  in  delaying  pur- 
suit until  their  friends  could  reach  the  mountains 
One  of  them  was  instantly  shot  dead,  and  the 
other  was  badly  wounded,  as  was  evident  from 
the  blood  upon  his  blanket,  as  well  as  that  which 
filled  his  tracks  in  the  snow  for  a  considerable 
distance.     The  pursuit  was  recommenced,  and 


A    WILD   WHITE   MAN.  231 

urged  keenly  until  night,  when  the  trail  entered 
a  running  stream  and  was  lost. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  snow  had 
melted,  and  every  trace  of  the  enemy  w^as  ob- 
literated. The  affair  of  the  retreat  must  be  re- 
garded as  creditable  to  the  skill  and  activity  of 
the  Indians.  The  self-devotion  of  their  rear- 
guard, is  one  of  those  Roman  traits,  w^hich,  among 
much  that  is  odious  and  barbarous,  we  sometimes 
find  in  the  Indian  character. 

A  few  weeks  after  this  melancholy  affair,  a 
very  remarkable  incident  occurred  in  the  same 
neighborhood.  One  morning,  about  sunrise,  a 
young  man  of  wild  and  savage  appearance,  sud- 
denly arose  from  a  cluster  of  bushes  in  front  of  a 
cabin,  and  hailed  the  house  in  a  barbarous  dialect. 
His  skin  had  evidently  once  been  white,  although 
now  tanned  by  constant  exposure  to  the  weather 
His  dress  in  every  respect  was  that  of  an  Indian, 
as  were  his  gestures  and  tones.  His  age  could 
not  be  supposed  to  exceed  twenty  years.  He 
talked  volubly  but  uncouthly,  placed  his  hand 
upon  his  breast,  gesticulated  vehemently,  and 
seemed  very  earnestly  bent  upon  communicating 
something.  He  was  invited  to  enter  the  cabin, 
and  the  neighbors  quickly  collected  around  him. 

He  appeared  involuntarily  to  shrink  from  con- 


232  A    WILD    WHITE    MAN. 

tact  with  them.  His  eyes  rolled  rapidly  arotind 
with  a  distrustful  expression  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  his  whole  manner  was  that  of  a  wild 
animal,  just  caught,  and  shrinking  from  the  touch 
of  its  captors.  As  several  present  understood 
the  Indian  tongue,  they  at  length  learned  the  fol- 
lowing particulars.  The  stranger  said  that  he 
had  been  taken  by  the  Indians  when  a  child,  but 
could  neither  recollect  his  name,  nor  the  country 
of  his  birth ;  that  he  had  been  adopted  by  an  In- 
dian warrior,  \vho  brought  him  up  \vith  his  other 
sons,  without  making  the  slightest  difference 
between  them  :  and  that,  under  his  father's  roof, 
he  had  lived  happily  until  within  the  last  month. 
A  few  weeks  before  that  time,  his  father,  ac- 
companied by  himself  and  a  younger  brother,  had 
hunted  for  sometime  upon  the  waters  of  the 
Miami,  about  forty  miles  from  the  spot,  w-here 
Cincinnati  now  stands;  and,  after  all  their 
meat  and  skins  had  been  properly  secured,  the 
old  man  determined  to  gratify  his  children,  by 
taking  them  upon  a  war  expedition  to  Kentucky. 
They  accordingly  built  a  bark  canoe,  in  w^hich 
they  crossed  the  Ohio,  near  the  mouth  of  Lick- 
ing, and  having  buried  it,  so  as  to  secure  it  from 
the  action  of  the  sun,  they  advanced  into  the 
country  and  encamped  at  the  distance  ot  fifteen 


A   WILD   WHITE    MAN.  233 

miles  from  the  river.  Here  their  father  was 
alarmed  by  hearing  an  owl  cry  in  a  pecuHar 
tone,  which  he  declared  boded  death  or  captivity 
to  themselves,  if  they  continued  their  expedition ; 
and  announced  his  intention  of  returning  with- 
out delay  to  the  river. 

Both  of  his  sons  vehemently  opposed  this  res- 
olution, and  at  length  prevailed  upon  the  old 
man  to  disregard  the  owl's  warning,  and  conduct 
them,  as  he  had  promised,  against  the  frontiers 
of  Kentucky.  The  party  then  composed  them- 
selves to  sleep,  but  were  quickly  awakened  by 
their  father,  who  had  again  been  warned,  in  a 
dream,  that  death  awaited  them  in  Kentucky, 
and  again  besought  his  children  to  release  him 
from  his  promise,  and  lose  no  time  in  returning 
home.  Again  they  prevailed  upon  him  to  dis- 
regard the  warning,  and  persevere  in  the  march. 
He  consented  to  gratify  them,  but  declared  he 
would  not  remain  a  moment  longer  in  the  camp 
which  they  now  occupied,  and  accordingly  they 
left  it  immediately,  and  marched  on  through  the 
night,  directing  their  course  toward  Bourbon 
county. 

In  the  evening,  they  approached  a  house,  that 
which  he  had  hailed,  and  in  which  he  was  now 
speaking.     Suddenly,  the  desire  of  rejoining  hLs 


234  A   WELD   WHITE   MAN. 

people  occupied  his  mind  so  strongly  as  to  ex- 
clude every  other  idea,  and,  seizing  the  first 
favorable  opportunity,  he  had  concealed  himself 
in  the  bushes,  and  neglected  to  reply  to  all  the 
signals,  which  had  been  concerted  for  the  pur- 
pose of  collecting  their  party  when  scattered. 

This  account  appeared  so  extraordinary,  and 
the  young  man's  appearance  was  so  wild  and 
suspicious,  that  many  of  the  neighbors  suspected 
him  of  treachery,  and  thought  that  he  should  be 
arrested  as  a  spy.  Others  opposed  thisi  resolution, 
and  gave  full  credit  to  his  narrative.  In  order 
to  satisfy  themselves,  however,  they  insisted  upon 
his  instantly  conducting  them  to  the  spot  where 
the  canoe  had  been  buried.  To  this  the  young 
man  objected  most  vehemently,  declaring  that 
although  he  had  deserted  his  father  and  brother, 
he  would  not  betray  them. 

These  feelings  w^ere  too  delicate  to  meet  with 
much  sympathy  from  the  rude  borderers,  who 
surrounded  him,  and  he  was  given  to  understand 
that  nothing  short  of  conducting  them  to  the 
canoe  would  be  accepted  as  an  evidence  of  his 
sincerity.  With  obvious  reluctance  he  at  length 
complied.  From  twenty  to  thirty  men  were 
quickly  assembled,  mounted  upon  good  horses, 
and,  under  the  guidance  of  the  deserter,  they 


A   WILD    WHITE    MAN.  235 

moved  rapidly  toward  the  mouth  of  the  Licking. 
On  the  road,  the  young  man  informed  them  that 
he  would  first  conduct  them  to  the  spot,  where 
they  had  encamped,  when  the  scream  of  the  owl 
alarmed  his  father,  and  where  an  iron  kettle  had 
been  left  concealed  in  a  hollow  tree.  He  was 
probably  induced  to  do  this  from  the  hope  of 
delaying  the  pursuit  so  long  as  to  afford  his 
friends  an  opportunity  of  crossing  the  river  in 
safety. 

But  if  such  were  his  intention,  no  measure 
could  have  been  more  unfortunate.  The  whites 
approached  the  encampment  in  deep  silence,  and 
quickly  perceived  two  Indians,  an  old  man  and  a 
boy,  seated  by  the  fire  and  busily  employed  in 
cooking  some  venison.  The  deserter  became 
much  agitated  ^^"  the  sight  of  them,  and  so 
earnestly  implored  his  countrymen  not  to  kill 
them,  that  it  was  agreed  to  surround  the  en- 
campment, and  endeavor  to  secure  them  as 
prisoners. 

This  was  accordingly  attempted ;  but  so 
desperate  was  the  resistance  of  the  Indians,  and 
so  determined  were  their  efforts  to  escape,  that 
the  whites  were  compelled  to  fire  iipon  them, 
and  the  old  man  fell  mortally  wounded,  while 
the  boy,  by  an  incredible  display  of  address  and 


236  A    WILD    WHITE    MAN. 

activity,  wau  enabled  to  escape.  The  deserter 
beheld  his  father  fall,  and  throwing  himself 
from  his  horse,  he  ran  up  to  the  spot  where  the 
old  man  lay  bleeding  but  still  sensible,  and  fall- 
ing upon  his  body,  besought  his  forgiveness  for 
being  the  unwilling  cause  of  his  death,  and  wept 
bitterly. 

His  father  evidently  recognised  him,  and  gave 
him  his  hand,  but  almost  instantly  expired.  The 
white  men  now  called  upon  him  to  conduct  them 
at  a  gallop  to  the  spot  where  the  canoe  was 
buried,  expecting  to  reach  it  before  the  Indian 
boy,  and  intercept  him.  The  deserter  in  vain 
implored  their  mercy.  He  urged  that  he  had 
already  proved  the  truth  of  his  assertions,  at  the 
expense  of  his  father's  life,  and  besought  them 
to  permit  his  younger  brother  to  escape.  His 
companions,  however,  were  inexorable.  Nothing 
but  the  blood  of  the  young  Indian  would  satisfy 
them,  and  the  deserter  was  again  compelled  to 
act  as  a  guide. 

Within  two  hours  they  reached  the  designated 
spot.  The  canoe  was  still  there,  and  no  track 
could  be  seen  upon  the  sand,  so  that  it  was  evi- 
dent that  their  victim  had  not  yet  arrived. 

Hastily  dismounting,  they  tied  their  horses, 
and  concealed  themselves  within  close  rifle-shot 


A    WILD    WHITE    MAN.  237 

of  the  canoe.  Within  ten  minutes  after  their 
arrival,  the  Indian  appeared  in  sight,  walking 
hastily  toward  them.  He  went  straight  to  the 
spot  where  the  canoe  had  been  buried,  and  was 
in  the  act  of  digging  it  up,  when  he  received  a 
dozen  balls  through  his  body,  and  leaping  high 
into  the  air,  fell  dead  upon  the  sand.  He  was 
instantly  scalped  and  buried  where  he  fell,  with- 
out having  seen  his  brother,  and  probably  with- 
out being  aware  of  the  treachery,  by  which  he 
and  his  father  had  lost  their  lives. 

The  deserter  remained  but  a  short  time  in 
Bourbon,  and  never  regained  his  tranquillity  of 
mind.  He  shortly  afterward  disappeared,  but 
whether  to  seek  his  relations  in  Virginia  or 
Pennsylvania,  or  whether,  disgusted  by  the 
ferocity  of  the  whites,  he  returned  to  the  Indians, 
has  never  yet  been  known.  He  was  never  heard 
of  afterward. 

During  the  summer,  the  house  of  Mr.  John 
Merril  of  Nelson  County,  Kentucky,  was  attack- 
ed by  the  Indians,  and  defended  with  singular 
address  and  good  fortune.  Merril  was  alarmed 
by  the  barking  of  a  dog  about  midnight,  and 
upon  opening  the  door  in  order  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  disturbance,  he  received  the  fire  of 
six  or  seven  Indians,  by  which  his  arm  and  thigh 


238  SINGULAR    DEFENCE. 

were  broken.  He  instantly  sunk  upon  the  tlooi 
and  called  upon  his  wife  to  close  the  door.  This 
had  scarcely  been  done,  when  it  was  violently 
assailed  by  the  tomahawks  of  the  enemy,  and  a 
large  breach  soon  effected.  Mrs.  Merril,  how- 
ever, being  a  perfect  Amazon  both  in  strength 
and  courage,  guarded  it  with  an  axe,  and  suc- 
cessively killed  or  badly  wounded  four  of  the 
enemy  as  they  attempted  to  force  their  way  into 
the  cabin. 

The  Indians  then  ascended  the  roof  and  at- 
tempted to  enter  the  house  by  way  of  the  chim- 
ney, but  here  again  they  were  met  by  the  same 
determined  enemy.  Mrs.  Merril  seized  the  only 
featherbed  which  the  cabin  afforded,  and,  hasti- 
ly ripping  it  open,  poured  its  contents  upon  the 
fire.  A  furious  blaze  and  stifling  smoke  instant- 
ly ascended  the  chimney,  and  brought  down  two 
of  the  enemy,  who  lay  for  a  few  moments  at  the 
mercy  of  the  lady. 

Seizing  the  axe,  she  quickly  despatched  them, 
and  was  instantly  afterward  summoned  to  the 
door,  where  the  only  remaining  savage  now  ap- 
peared, endeavoring  to  effect  an  entrance  while 
Mrs.  Merril  was  engaged  at  the  chimney.  He 
soon  received  a  gash  in  the  cheek,  which  com- 
pelled him,  with  a  loud  yell,  to  relinquish  his 


SINGULAR   DEFENCE.  239 

purpose,  and  return  hastily  tc  Chillicothe,  where, 
from  the  report  of  a  prisoner,  he  gave  an  ex- 
aggerated account  of  the  fierceness,  strength, 
and  courage  of  the  "  long-knife  squaw." 

What  may  not  be  effected  in  a  difficult  emer- 
gency by  self-possession,  boldness,  and  a  rapid 
exercise  of  the  faculties  which  God  has  given 
usl 


240      HUEEELI/S   ENCOUNTER    ON    THE   OHIO 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HUBBELL's   encounter    on    the    OHIO MALE    ANI 

FEMALE    DARING THE    DAVIESS   FAMILY COL- 

TER's    ESCAPE. 

In  the  year  1791,  while  the  Indians  were  yet 
troublesome,  especially  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio, 
Captain  William  Hiibbell,  who  had  previously 
emigrated  to  Kentucky  from  the  state  of  Ver- 
mont, and  who,  after  fixing  his  family  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Frankfort,  then  a  frontier  settle- 
ment, had  been  compelled  to  go  to  the  eastward 
on  business,  was  a  second  time  on  his  way  to 
that  place. 

On  one  of  the  tributary  streams  of  the  Monon- 
gahela,  he  procured  a  flat-bottomed  boat,  and 
embarked  in  company  with  Mr.  Daniel  Light 
and  Mr.  WilHam  Plascut  and  his  family,  con- 
sisting of  a  wife  and  eight  children,  destined  for 
Limestone,  Kentucky.     On  their  progress  down 


HUBBELL's   ENCOXJNTER   on    the    OHIO.       241 

ehe  river  Ohio,  and  soon  after  passing  Pittsburgh, 
they  saw  evident  traces  of  Indians  along  the 
banks,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that 
a  boat  which  they  overtook,  and  which,  through 
carelessness,  was  suffered  to  run  aground  on  an 
island,  became  a  prey  to  these  merciless  savages. 
Though  Captain  Hubbell  and  his  party  stopped 
some  time  for  it  in  a  lower  part  of  the  river,  it 
did  not  arrive,  and  it  has  never  to  their  knowl- 
edge been  heard  of  since.  Before  they  reached 
the  mouth  of  the  Great  Kenhaw^a,  they  had,  by 
several  successive  additions,  increased  their  num 
ber  to  twenty,  consisting  of  nine  men,  three 
women,  and  eight  children.  The  men,  beside 
those  mentioned  above,  were  one  John  Stoner 
an  Irishman  and  a  Dutchman,  whose  names  are 
not  recollected,  Messrs.  Ray  and  Tucker,  and  a 
Mr.  Kilpatrick,  whose  two  daughters  also  were 
of  the  party.  Information  received  at  Gallipolis 
confirmed  the  expectation,  which  appearances 
previously  raised,  of  a  serious  conflict  with  a 
large  body  of  Indians ;  and,  as  Captain  Hubbell 
had  been  regularly  appointed  commander  of  the 
b.tat,  every  possible  preparation  was  made  for  ? 
formidable  and  successful  resistance  of  the  an 
bcipated  attack. 

The  nine  men  were  divided  into  three  watches 
12—16 


242     hubbell's  encounter  on  the  ohio. 

for  the  night,  which  were  alternately  to  continue 
awake,  and  be  on  the  look  out  for  two  hours  at 
a  time.  The  arms  on  board,  which  consisted 
principally  of  old  muskets  much  out  of  order, 
were  collected,  loaded,  and  put  in  the  best  possi- 
ble condition  for  service.  At  about  sunset  on 
that  day,  the  twenty-third  of  March,  1791,  our 
party  overtook  a  fleet  of  six  boats  descending 
the  river  in  company,  and  intended  to  have  con- 
tinued with  them ;  but,  as  their  passengers  seemed 
to  be  more  disposed  for  dancing  than  fighting, 
and  as,  soon  after  dark,  notwithstanding  the  re- 
monstrances of  Captain  Hubbell,they  commenced 
fiddling  and  dancing  instead  of  preparing  their 
arms  and  taking  the  necessary  rest  preparatory 
to  battle,  it  was  wisely  considered  more  hazard- 
ous to  be  in  such  company  than  to  be  alone. 

It  was  therefore  determined  to  proceed  rapidly 
forward  by  aid  of  the  oars,  and  to  leave  those 
thoughtless  fellow-travellers  behind.  One  of  the 
boats,  however,  belonging  to  the  fleet,  command- 
ed by  a  Captain  Greathouse,  adopted  the  same 
plan,  and  for  a  while  kept  up  with  Captain 
Hubbell;  but  all  its  crew  at  length  falling  asleep, 
that  boat  also  ceased  to  be  propelled  by  the  oars, 
and  Captain  Hubbell  and  his  party  proceeded 
steadily  forward  alone.     Early  in  the  night  a 


243 

canoe  was  dimly  seen  floating  down  the  river, 
in  which  were  probably  Indians  reconnoitring ; 
and  other  evident  indications  were  observed  of 
the  neighborhood  and  hostile  intentions  of  a 
formidable  party  of  savages. 

It  was  now  agreed,  that  should  the  attack,  as 
was  probable,  be  deferred  till  morning,  every 
man  should  be  up  before  dawn  in  order  to  make 
as  great  a  show  as  possible  of  numbers  and  of 
strength ;  and  that,  whenever  the  action  should 
take  place,  the  women  and  children  should  lie 
down  on  the  cabin  floor,  and  be  protected  as  well 
as  they  could  by  the  trunks  and  other  baggage, 
which  might  be  placed  around  them.  In  this 
perilous  situation  they  continued  during  the 
night ;  but  the  captain,  who  had  not  slept  more 
than  one  hour  since  he  left  Pittsburgh,  was  too 
deeply  impressed  with  the  imminent  danger 
which  surrounded  him  to  obtain  any  rest  at  that 
time. 

Just  as  daylight  began  to  appear  in  the  east, 
and  before  the  men  were  up  and  at  their  posts 
agreeably  to  arrangement,  a  voice  at  some  dis- 
tance below  them,  in  a  plaintive  tone,  repeatedly 
solicited  them  to  come  on  shore,  as  there  were 
some  white  persons  who  wished  to  obtain  a 
passage  in  their  boat.     This  the  captain  very 


244 


naturally  and  correctly  concluded  to  be  an  Indian 
artifice,  and  its  only  effect  was  to  rouse  the  men 
and  place  every  one  on  his  guard.  The  voice 
of  entreaty  was  soon  changed  into  the  language 
of  indignation  and  insult,  and  the  sound  of  dis- 
tant paddles  announced  the  approach  of  the 
savage  foe.  At  length  three  Indian  canoes  were 
seen  through  the  mist  of  the  morning  rapidly 
advancing.  With  the  utmost  coolness  the  cap- 
tain and  his  companions  prepared  to  receive  them. 
The  chairs,  tables,  and  other  encumbrances,  were 
thrown  into  the  river,  in  order  to  clear  the  deck 
for  action. 

Every  man  took  his  position,  and  was  ordered 
not  to  fire  till  the  savages  had  approached  so 
near,  that  (to  use  the  words  of  Captain  Hubbell), 
"  the  flash  from  the  guns  might  singe  their  eye- 
brows ;"  and  a  special  caution  w^as  given,  that 
the  men  should  fire  successively,  so  that  there 
might  be  no  interval. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  canoes  they  were  found 
to  contain  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  Indians 
each.  As  soon  as  they  had  approached  within 
the  reach  of  musket-shot,  a  general  fire  was 
poured  in  from  one  of  them,  which  wounded 
Mr.  Tucker  through  the  hip,  so  severely,  that  his 
leg  hung  only  by  the  flesh,  and  shot  Mr.  Light 


HUBBELL's   encounter   on   the   OHIO.      245 

just  below  the  ribs.  The  three  canoes  ranged 
themselves  at  the  bow,  stern,  and  on  the  right 
side  of  the  boat,  so  that  they  had  an  opportunity 
of  raking  in  every  direction.  The  fire  now  com- 
menced from  the  boat,  and  had  a  powerful  effect 
in  checking  the  confidence  and  fury  of  the 
Indians. 

The  captain,  after  firing  his  own  gun,  took 
up  that  of  one  of  the  wounded  men,  raised  it  to 
his  shoulder,  and  was  about  to  discharge  it,  when 
a  ball  came  and  took  away  the  lock ;  he  coolly 
turned  round,  seized  a  brand  of  fire  fi-om  the 
kettle,  which  served  for  a  caboose,  and  applying 
it  to  the  pan,  discharged  the  piece  with  effect. 
A  very  regular  and  constant  fire  was  now  kept 
up  on  both  sides.  The  captain  was  just  in  the 
act  of  raising  his  gun  a  third  time,  when  a  ball 
passed  through  his  right  arm,  and  for  a  moment 
disabled  him.  Scarcely  had  he  recovered  from 
the  shock,  and  regained  the  use  of  his  hand, 
which  had  been  suddenly  drawn  up  by  the 
wound,  when  he  observed  the  Indians  in  one  of 
the  canoes,  just  about  to  board  the  boat  in  its 
bow,  where  the  horses  belonging  to  the  party 
were  placed.  So  near  had  the  savages  ap- 
proached, that  some  of  them  had  actually  seized 
with  their  hands  the  side  of  the  boat. 


246 

Severely  wounded  as  he  was,  he  caught  up  a 
pair  of  horseman's  pistols,  and  rushed  forward 
to  repel  the  attempt  to  board.  On  his  approach, 
the  Indians  fell  back,  and  he  discharged  a  pistol 
with  effect  at  the  foremost  man.  After  firing 
the  second  pistol,  he  found  himself  without  arms, 
and  was  compelled  to  retreat ;  but  stepping  back 
upon  a  pile  of  small  wood,  which  had  been  pre- 
pared for  burning  in  the  kettle,  the  thought 
struck  him  that  it  might  be  made  use  of  in  re- 
pelling the  foe,  and  he  continued  for  sometime 
to  strike  them  with  it  so  forcibly  and  actively, 
that  they  were  unable  to  enter  the  boat ;  and  at 
length  he  wounded  one  of  them  so  severely  that, 
with  a  yell,  they  suddenly  gave  w^ay. 

All  the  canoes  instantly  discontinued  the  con- 
test, and  directed  their  course  to  Captain  Gi  eat- 
house's  boat,  which  was  then  in  sight.  Here  a 
striking  contrast  was  exhibited  to  the  firmness 
and  intrepidity  which  had  just  been  displayed. 

Instead  of  resisting  the  attack,  the  people  on 
board  of  this  boat  retreated  to  the  cabin  in  dis- 
may. The  Indians  entered  it  without  opposition, 
and  rowed  it  to  the  shore,  w^here  they  instantly 
killed  the  captain  and  a  lad  of  about  fom'teen 
years  of  age.  The  women  they  placed  in  the 
centre  of  their  canoes,  which  they  manned  with 


HUBBELL's   encounter   on   the    OHIO.      247 

fresh  hands,  and  again  started  in  pursuit  of  Cap- 
tain Hubbell  and  his  party.  A  melancholy  al- 
ternative now  presented  itself  to  these  brave, 
but  almost  desponding  men ;  either  to  fall  a  prey 
to  the  savages  themselves,  or  to  run  the  risk  of 
shooting  the  women,  who  had  been  placed  in  the 
canoes,  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  firing 
of  the  whites  upon  the  Indians.  But  "  self- 
preservation  is  the  first  law  of  nature,"  and  the 
captain  very  justly  remarked,  that  there  would 
not  be  much  humanity  in  saving  the  lives  of  the 
females  then,  when  they  might  be  reserved  for 
a  fate  infinitely  more  horrid  than  a  quick  death. 
There  were  now  but  four  men  left  on  board 
of  Captain  Hubbell's  boat,  capable  of  defending 
it,  and  the  captain  himself  was  severely  wounded 
in  two  places.  The  second  attack,  however, 
was  resisted  with  wonderful  firmness  and  vigor. 
Whenever  the  Indians  would  rise  to  fire,  their 
opponents  would  commonly  give  them  the  first 
shot,  which  in  almost  every  instance  would  prove 
fatal.  Notwithstanding  the  disparity  of  numbers, 
and  the  exhausted  condition  of  the  defenders  of 
the  boat,  the  IncUans  at  length  appeared  to 
despair  of  success,  and  the  canoes  one  by  one 
withdrew  to  the  shore.  Just  as  the  last  one  was 
departing.  Captain  Hubbell  called  to  the  Indian 


248 


who  was  standing  on  the  stern,  and  on  his  turn- 
ing round,  discharged  his  piece  at  him.  When 
the  smoke,  which  for  a  moment  obstructed  the 
vision,  was  dissipated,  the  savage  was  seen  lying 
on  his  back,  and  appeared  to  be  severely,  perhaps 
mortally,  wounded. 

Unfortunately  the  boat  now  drifted  near  to  the 
shore  w^here  the  Indians  were  collected ;  and  a 
large  concourse,  probably  amounting  to  four  or 
five  hundred,  were  seen  rushing  down  the  bank. 
Ray  and  Plascut,  the  only  men  remaining  un- 
hurt, were  placed  at  the  oars,  and  as  the  boat 
was  not  more  than  twenty  yards  from  the  shore, 
it  was  deemed  prudent  for  all  to  lie  down  in  as 
safe  a  position  as  possible,  and  attempt  to  push 
forward  with  the  utmost  rapidit}'. 

While  they  continued  in  this  situation,  nine 
balls  were  shot  into  one  oar,  and  ten  into  the 
other,  without  wounding  the  rowers,  who  w^ere 
hidden  from  view  and  protected  by  the  side  of 
the  boat  and  the  blankets  in  its  stern.  During 
this  dreadful  exposure  to  the  fire  of  the  savages, 
which  continued  about  twenty  minutes,  Mr.  Kil- 
patrick  observed  a  particular  Indian,  whom  he 
thought  a  favorable  mark  for  his  rifle,  and,  not- 
withstanding the  solemn  warning  of  Captain 
Hubbell,  rose  to   shoot  him.     He  immediately 


HUBBELL's  encounter  on  the  OHIO   .VIS 

received  a  ball  in  his  mouth,  and  was,  almrst  a' 
the  same  moment,  shot  through  the  heart.  Ht 
fell  among  the  horses  that  about  the  same  timf 
were  killed  —  a  dreadful  spectacle  to  his  afflicted 
daughters,  who  were  present. 

The  boat  was  now  providentially  and  sudden- 
ly carried  out  into  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and 
taken  by  the  current  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
enemy's  balls.  Our  little  band,  reduced  as  they 
were  in  numbers,  wounded,  afflicted,  and  ex- 
hausted, were  still  unsubdued  in  spirit,  and  being 
assembled  in  all  their  strength,  men,  women,  and 
children,  they  gave  three  hearty  cheers,  caUing 
to  the  Indians  to  come  on  again  if  they  were 
fond  of  the  sport. 

Thus  ended  this  awful  conflict,  in  which,  out 
of  nine  men,  two  only  escaped  unhurt.  Tucker 
and  Kilpatrick  were  killed  on  the  spot.  Stoner 
was  mortally  wounded,  and  died  on  his  arrival 
at  Limestone.  All  the  rest,  excepting  Ray  and 
Plascut,  were  severely  wounded.  The  women 
and  children  were  all  uninjured,  excepting  a 
little  son  of  Mr.  Plascut,  who,  after  the  battle 
was  over,  came  to  the  captain,  and,  with  great 
?-oolness,  requested  him  to  take  a  ball  out  of  his 
Head. 

On  examination,  it  appeared   that  a  bullet, 


250    hubbell's  encounter  on  the  ohio. 

which  had  passed  through  the  side  of  the  boat, 
had  penetrated  the  forehead  of  the  httle  hero, 
and  remained  under  the  skin.  The  captain  took 
it  out. 

"That  is  not  all,"  said  the  little  lad  ;  and  he 
raised  his  arm  and  exhibited  a  piece  of  bone  at 
the  point  of  his  elbow,  which  had  been  shot  off 
and  hung  only  by  the  skin. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  of  this  before  V  asked 
his  mother  with  solicitude. 

"  Because,"  rephed  the  intrepid  youth,  "  the 
captain  directed  us  to  be  silent  during  the  action, 
and  I  thought  that  you  would  be  likely  to  make 
a  noise  if  I  told  you." 

The  party  reached  Limestone  in  safety  at 
midnight.  The  next  day,  crowds  of  people 
came  to  see  the  boat  and  the  passengers,  who 
had  made  so  gallant  a  resistance.  On  examin- 
ation, it  was  found  that  the  sides  of  the  boat 
were  literally  filled  with  bullets  and  bullet-holes 
There  was  scarcely  a  space  of  two  feet  square 
in  the  part  above  water,  which  had  not  either  a 
ball  remaining  in  it,  or  a  hole,  through  which 
a  ball  had  passed.  Some  persons  who  had  the 
curiosity  to  count  the  number  of  holes  in  the 
blankets,  which  were  hung  up  as  curtains  in  the 
Stern   of  the  boat,  affirmed  that  in  the  space  of 


HUBBELL'S   ENCOUNTER   ON   THE   OHIO.        251 

five  feet  square,  there  were  one  hundred  and 
twenty-two.  Four  horses  out  of  five  were 
killed,  and  the  escape  of  the  fifth,  amidst  such  a 
shower  of  balls,  appears  almost  miraculous. 

The  bodies  of  Captain  Greathouse  and  several 
others,  men,  women,  and  children,  who  had  been 
on  board  of  his  boat,  were  subsequently  dis- 
covered. Most  of  them  appeared  to  have  been 
whipped  to  death,  as  they  were  found  stripped, 
tied  to  trees,  and  covered  vdth  stripes ;  and  large 
rods,  which  seemed  to  have  been  worn  with  use, 
were  lying  near. 

The  following  incidents,  were  they  not  well 
substantiated,  might  excite  the  incredulity  of  the 
reader.  The  statement  may,  however,  be  relied 
upon.  Mr.  Higgins  was  known  as  a  man  of 
veracity;  his  companions  corroborated  his  nar- 
rative, and  his  wounds  afforded  ample  proof  of 
his  courage  and  sufferings. 

During  the  last  war,  Tom  Higgins,  as  he  was 
usually  called,  enlisted  in  the  Rangers — a  corps 
of  mounted  men,  raised  expressly  for  the  pro- 
tection of  the  western  frontiers.  On  the  thirtiet)- 
of  August,  1814,  he  was  one  of  the  party  of 
twelve  men,  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant 
Journey,  who  were  posted  at  Hill's  station  —  a 
small  stockade,  about  three  miles  south  of  the 


252  MALE   AND   FEMALE    DARING. 

present  village  of  Greenville,  Illinois,  and  some- 
thing more  than  twenty  miles  from  Vandalia. 
Those  towns  were  not  then  in  existence,  and  the 
surrounding  country  was  one  vast  wilderness. 

During  the  day  last  mentioned,  signs  of  In- 
dians were  seen  about  half  a  mile  from  the  sta- 
tion, and  at  night  the  savages  w^ere  discovered 
prowling  near  the  fort — but  no  alarm  was  given. 
On  the  following  morning,  early,  Mr.  Journey 
moved  out  with  his  party,  in  pursuit  of  the  In- 
dians. Passing  round  the  fence  of  a  cornfield, 
adjoining  the  fort,  they  struck  across  the  prairie, 
and  had  not  proceeded  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  when,  in  crossing  a  small  ridge,  which  was 
covered  with  a  hazel  thicket,  in  full  view  of  the 
station,  they  fell  into  an  ambuscade  of  Indians, 
who  rose  suddenly  around  them,  to  the  number 
of  seventy  or  eighty,  and  fired.  Four  of  our 
party  were  killed,  among  whom  was  Lieutenant 
Journey;  one  other  fell,  badly  wounded,  and  the 
rest  fled,  except  Higgins. 

It  was  a  sultry  morning.  The  day  was  just 
dawning.  A  heavy  dew  had  fallen  the  pre- 
ceding night.  The  air  was  still  and  humid ;  and 
the  smoke  from  the  guns  hung  in  a  cloud  over 
the  spot.  Under  the  cover  of  this  cloud,  Hig- 
gins's  surviving  companion  had  escaped,  sup- 


MALE    AND    FEMALE    DARING.  253 

posing  all  who  were  left  were  dead ;  or  that,  at 
all  events,  it  would  be  rashness  to  attempt  to 
rescue  them  from  so  overwhelming:  a  force 
Higgins's  horse  had  been  shot  through  the  neck, 
fallen  to  his  knees,  and  risen  again  several  times. 
Believing  the  animal  mortally  wounded,  he  dis- 
mounted, but  finding  the  wound  had  not  greatly 
disabled  him,  he  continued  to  hold  the  bridle ; 
for,  as  he  now  felt  confident  of  being  able  to 
make  good  his  retreat,  he  determined  to  fire  off 
his  gun  before  he  retired. 

He  looked  around  for  a  tree.  There  was  but 
one,  a  small  elm,  and  he  made  for  this,  intending 
to  shoot  from  behind  it ;  but,  at  this  moment,  the 
cloud  of  smoke  arose  partially  from  before  him, 
disclosing  to  his  view  a  number  of  Indians,  none 
of  whom  discovered  him.  One  of  them  stood 
within  a  few  paces,  loading  his  gun,  and  at  him 
Higgins  took  a  deliberate  aim,  fired,  and  the 
Indian  fell.  Higgins,  still  concealed  by  the 
smoke,  reloaded  his  gun,  mounted,  and  turned  to 
fly,  when  a  low  voice  near  him  hailed  him  with, 
"  Tom,  you  won  't  leave  me  ?" 

On  looking  round,  he  discovered  the  speaker 
to  be  one  of  his  comrades,  named  Burgess,  who 
was  lyino-  wounded  on  the  ground,  and  he  re- 


254  MALE    AND   FEMALE   DARING. 

plied  instantly,  "  No,  I  '11  not  leaye  you ;  come 
along,  and  I  '11  take  care  of  you." 

"  I  can  't  come,"  replied  Burgess,  "  my  leg  is 
smashed  all  to  pieces." 

Higgins  sprang  from  the  saddle,  and  taking 
up  his  comrade  —  whose  ankle  bone  was  broken 
—  in  his  arms,  he  proceeded  to  Hft  him  on  his 
horse,  teUing  him  to  fly,  and  that  he  would  make 
his  own  way  on  foot.  But  the  horse  taking 
fright  at  this  instant,  darted  off,  leaving  Higgins, 
with  his  wounded  friend,  on  foot.  Still,  the  cool 
bravery  of  the  former  was  sufficient  for  every 
emergency,  and  setting  Burgess  down  gently,  he 
said,  "  Now,  my  good  fellow,  you  must  hop  off 
on  your  three  legs,  while  I  stay  between  you 
and  the  Indians,  to  keep  them  off," — instructing 
him,  at  the  same  time,  to  get  into  the  highest 
grass,  and  crawl  as  close  to  the  ground  as 
possible. 

Burgess  followed  his  advice,  and  escaped  im- 
noticed.  History  does  not  relate  a  more  dis- 
interested act  of  heroism,  than  this  of  Higgins, 
who,  having  in  his  hands  the  certain  means  of 
escape  from  such  imminent  peril,  voluntarily 
gave  them  up,  by  offering  his  horse  to  a  wound- 
ed comrade ;  and  who,  w^hen  that  generous  m- 
tention  was  defeated,  and  his  own  retreat  was 


MALE    AND   FEMALE    DARING.  255 

still  practicable,  remained,  at  the  hazard  of  his 
life,  to  protect  his  crippled  friend. 

The  cloud  of  smoke — which  had  partially 
opened  before  him,  as  he  faced  the  enemy — still 
lay  thick  behind ;  and,  as  he  plunged  through 
this,  he  left  it,  together  with  the  ridge  and  itie 
hazel  thicket,  between  him  and  the  main  body 
of  the  Indians,  and  was  retiring,  unobserved  by 
them.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  is  probable, 
that  if  he  had  retreated  in  a  direct  line  toward 
the  station,  he  might  very  readily  have  effected 
his  escape.  But  Burgess  was  slowly  crawling 
away,  in  that  direction,  and  the  gallant  Higgins 
—  who  coolly  surveyed  the  whole  ground  — 
foresaw,  that,  if  he  pursued  the  same  track,  and 
should  be  discovered,  his  friend  would  be  en 
dangered.  He,  therefore,  took  the  heroic  reso- 
lution of  deviating  from  the  true  com'se,  so  far, 
as  that  any  of  the  enemy  who  should  follow  him, 
might  not  fall  in  with  Burgess. 

With  this  intention,  he  moved  stealthily  along, 
through  the  smoke  and  bushes,  intending,  when 
he  emerged,  to  retreat  at  full  speed.  But,  as  he 
left  the  thicket,  he  beheld  a  large  Indian  near 
him,  and  two  others  on  the  other  side,  in  the 
direction  of  the  fort.  Tom  coolly  surveyed  his 
foes,   and  began  to  chalk  out  his  track ;   for 


256  MALE    AND   FEMALI     JARfNG. 

although  in  the  confidence  of  his  own  activity 
and  courage,  he  felt  undismayed  at  such  odds, 
yet  he  found  it  necessary  to  act  the  General. 
Having  an  enemy  on  each  flank,  he  determined 
to  separate  them,  and  fight  them  singly. 

Making  for  a  ravine,  which  was  not  far  off, 
he  bounded  away,  but  soon  found  that  one  of  his 
limbs  failed  him,  having  received  a  ball  on  the 
first  fire,  which,  until  now,  he  had  scarcely 
noticed.  The  largest  Indian  was  following  him 
closely.  Higgins  turned  several  times  to  fire, 
but  the  Indian  would  halt  and  dance  about,  to 
prevent  his  taking  aim,  and  Tom  knew  that  he 
could  not  aflford  to  fire  at  random.  The  other 
two  were  now  closing  on  him,  and  he  found, 
that,  unless  he  could  dispose  of  the  first  one,  he 
must  be  overpowered.  He  therefore  halted, 
resolved  to  receive  a  fire ;  and  the  Indian,  at  a 
few  paces  distant,  raised  his  rifle.  Higgins 
watched  his  adversary's  eye,  and  just  as  he 
thought  his  finger  pressed  the  trigger,  he  sud- 
denly threw  his  side  to  him.  It  is  probable  this 
motion  saved  his  life,  for  the  ball,  which  would 
have  pierced  his  body,  entered  his  thigh. 

Tom  fell,  but  rose  again  and  ran ;  and  the 
largest  Indian  certain  of  his  prey,  loaded  again, 
and  then,  with  the  two  others,  pursued.     They 


MALE     iND   FEMALE    DARING  257 

soon  came  near  Higgins,  who  had  again  fallen^ 
and,  as  he  rose,  they  all  three  fired,  and  he  re 
ceived  all  their  balls.  He  now  fell  and  rose 
several  times,  and  the  Indians,  throwing  away 
their  guns,  advanced  on  him  with  spears  and 
icnives.  They  frequently  charged  upon  him,  but 
:n  his  presenting  his  gun  at  one  or  the  other, 
they  fell  back.  At  last,  the  largest  one — think- 
ing, probably,  from  Tom's  reserving  his  fire  so 
'ong,  that  his  gun  was  empty — charged  boldly 
p  to  him,  and  Higgins,  with  a  steady  aim,  shot 
fiim  dead. 

With  four  bullets  in  his  body,  and  with  an  empty 
gun,  two  Indians  before  him,  and  a  whole  tribe 
but  a  few  rods  off,  almost  any  other  man  would 
jave  despaired.  But  Tom  Higgins  had  no  such 
notion.  The  Indian  whom  he  had  last  slain  was 
the  most  dangerous  of  the  three,  and  he  felt  little 
tear  of  the  others.  He  had  been  near  enough 
to  see  their  eyes,  and  he  knew  human  nature 
sufficiently  to  discover  that  he  was  their  superior 
in  courage.  He,  therefore,  faced  them,  and  be- 
gan to  load  his  rJlle.  They  raised  a  whoop,  and 
rushed  on  him.  "  They  kept  their  distance,  as 
long  as  my  rifle  was  loaded,"  said  he,  "  but 
now,  w^hen  they  knew  it  empty,  they  were  bet- 
ter soldiers" 
12—17 


Q58  MALE    AND    FEMALE    DARING. 

A  fierce  and  bloody  conflict  ensued  The  In- 
dians, rushing  upon  Tom,  stabbed  hirn  in  many 
places;  but  it  happened,  fortunately,  that  the 
shafts  of  their  spears  were  thin  poles,  rigged 
hastily  for  the  occasion,  which  bent  whenever 
the  point  struck  a  rib,  or  encountered  the  oppo- 
sition of  one  of  Higgins's  tough  muscles.  From 
this  cause,  and  the  continued  exertion  of  his 
hand  and  his  rifle,  in  warding  off  their  thrusts, 
the  wounds  thus  made  were  not  deep,  but  his 
whole  front  was  covered  with  gashes,  of  which 
the  scars  yet  remain  in  honorable  proof  of  his 
valor. 

At  last  one  of  them  threw  his  tomahawk. 
The  edge  sunk  deep  into  Higgins's  cheek,  passed 
through  the  ear,  which  it  severed,  laid  bare  his 
scull  to  the  back  of  his  head,  and  stretched  him 
on  the  plain.  The  Indians  rushed  on,  but  Tom 
instantly  recovered  his  self-possession,  and  kept 
ijtiem  off  with  his  feet  and  his  hands,  until  he 
succeeded  in  grasping  one  of  their  spears,  which 
as  the  Indian  attempted  to  pull  it  from  him,  aided 
him  to  rise ;  and,  clubbing  his  rifle,  he  rushed 
upon  the  nearest  of  his  foes,  and  dashed  his 
brains  out  —  in  doing  which,  he  broke  the  stock 
to  pieces,  retaining  only  the  barrel  in  his  hand. 

The  other  Indian,  however   warily   he   had 


MALE    AND   FEMALE    DARING.  259 

fought  before,  now  came  manfully  into  battle. 
It  is  probable  that  he  felt  his  character,  as  a 
warrior,  at  stake.  To  have  fled  from  a  man 
desperately  wounded,  and  almost  disarmed,  or 
to  have  suffered  his  victim  to  escape,  would  have 
tarnished  his  manhood.  Uttering  a  terrific  yell, 
he  rushed  on,  and  attempted  to  stab  the  exhaust- 
ed ranger  ;  while  the  latter,  warding  off  the 
spear  with  one  hand,  brandished  his  rifle  barrel 
in  the  other.  The  Indian,  unwounded,  was 
now  by  far  the  more  powerful  man,  but  the 
moral  courage  of  our  hero  prevailed ;  and  the 
savage  —  unable  to  bear  the  fierce  glance  of 
his  untamed  eye  —  began  to  retreat  slowly 
toward  the  place  where  he  had  dropped  his 
rifle.  Tom  knew  that  if  the  Indian  recovered 
his  gun,  his  own  case  was  hopeless,  and,  throw- 
ing away  his  rifle  barrel,  he  drew  his  hunting- 
knife,  and  rushed  in  upon  him.  A  desperate 
strife  ensued,  and  several  deep  gashes  were  in- 
flicted, but  the  Indian  succeeded  in  casting  Hig- 
gins  from  him,  and  ran  to  the  spot  where  he 
had  thrown  down  his  gun,  while  Tom  searchea 
for  the  gun  of  the  other  Indian ;  thus,  the  two, 
bleeding  and  out  of  breath,  were  both  searching 
for  arms,  to  renew  the  conflict. 

By  this  time,  the  smoke  that  lay  between  the 


260  MALE    AND   FEMALE    DARING. 

combatants  and  the  main  body  of  the  Indians, 
had  cleared  away,  and  a  number  of  the  latter 
having  passed  the  hazel  thicket,  were  in  full 
view.  It  seemed,  therefore,  as  if  nothing  could 
save  our  heroic  ranger ;  —  but  relief  was  a 
hand. 

The  little  garrison,  at  the  station,  six  or  seven 
in  number,  had  witnessed  the  whole  of  this  un- 
paralleled combat.  There  was  among  them  an 
heroic  woman,  a  Mrs.  Pursley,  who,  when  she 
saw  Higgins  contending  singly  with  the  foe, 
urged  the  men  to  go  to  his  rescue.  The  ran- 
gers, at  first,  considered  the  attempt  hopeless ; 
as  the  Indians  outnumbered  them,  ten  to  one. 
But  Mrs.  Pursley  declaring  that  so  fine  a  fellow 
as  Tom  should  not  be  lost  for  want  of  help, 
snatched  a  rifle  out  of  her  husband's  hand,  and 
jumping  on  a  horse,  sallied  out.  The  men  — 
not  to  be  outdone  by  a  woman  —  followed  at 
full  gallop  toward  the  place  of  combat. 

A  scene  of  intense  interest  ensued :  —  the  In- 
dians at  the  thicket  had  just  discovered  Tom, 
and  were  rushing  down  toward  him,  with  sav- 
age yells ;  his  friends  were  spurring  their  horses 
to  reach  him  first.  Higgins,  exhausted  with  the 
loss  of  blood,  had  fallen  and  fainted,  while  his 
adversary,  too  intent  on  his  prey  to  observe  any- 


MALE    AND    FEMALE    DARING.  261 

thing  else,  was  looking  for  a  rifle.     The  ran- 
gers reached  the  battle-ground  first. 

Mrs.  Pursley,  who  knew  Tom's  spirit,  thought 
he  had  thrown  himself  down,  in  despair  foi 
the  Iass  of  his  gun,  and  tendered  him  the  one 
she  carried ;  but  Tom  was  past  shooting.  His 
friends  lifted  him  up,  threw  him  across  a  horse 
before  one  of  the  party,  and  turned  to  retreat 
just  as  the  Indians  came  up.  They  made  good 
their  retreat,  and  the  Indians  retired. 

"  We  repeat  this  adventure,'*  says  a  contempo- 
rary of  the  Illinois  Magazine,  "  just  as  it  was 
related  to  us,  and  have  not  the  least  doubt  that 
it  is  literally  correct,  or  as  nearly  so  as  Mr 
Higgins's  opportunities  for  observation  would 
admit.  For,  as  he  very  properly  observes,  he 
was  *  in  a  desperate  had  fix^  just  about  that 
time,  and  it  was  a  ^powerful  had  chance^  for  a 
man  to  take  notice  of  what  was  going  on  around 
him." 

After  being  carried  into  the  fort,  he  remained 
insensible  for  some  days,  and  his  life  was  pre- 
served with  difl[iculty  by  his  friends,  who  ex- 
tracted all  the  bullets  but  two,  which  remained 
in  the  thigh ;  one  of  which  gave  him  a  great 
deal  of  pain  for  several  years,  although  the  flesh 
was  healed.    At  length,  hearing  that  a  physician 


262  MALE   AND   FEMALE    DARING. 

had  settled  within  a  day's  ride  of  him,  he  went 
to  see  him.  The  physician  was  willing  to  ex« 
tract  the  ball,  but  asked  the  moderate  sum  of 
fifty  dollars  for  the  operation.  This  Tom  flatly 
refused  to  give,  as  it  was  more  than  half  a  year's 
pension.  As  he  rode  home,  he  turned  the  matter 
in  his  mind,  and  determined  upon  a  cheaper  plan. 
On  entering  the  house  he  requested  his  wife  to 
hand  him  a  razor.  The  exercise  of  riding  had 
so  chafed  the  part,  that  the  ball,  which  usually 
was  not  discoverable  to  the  touch,  could  be  felt. 
With  the  assistance  of  his  helpmate,  he  very 
deliberately  laid  open  his  thigh,  until  the  edge 
of  the  razor  touched  the  bullet;  and,  inserting  his 
two  thumbs  into  the  gash,  he  ^^ flirted  it  out^"^  as 
he  termed  it, "  without  costing  a  cent.^^  The  other 
ball  remained  in  his  limb  yet,  but  gave  him  no 
trouble,  except  when  he  used  violent  exercise 
He  continued  one  of  the  most  successful  hunters 
in  the  country,  and  it  still  took  the  "  best  kind 
of  a  ma7i"  to  handle  him. 

There  is  an  incident  in  the  early  settlement  of 
Kentucky,  but  little  noticed,  a  narrative  of  which 
was  recently  furnished  by  Captain  Samuel 
Daviess  to  Governor  Morehead.  In  the  fall  of 
the  year  1779,  Samuel  Daviess,  who  resided  in 
Bedford  county,  Virginia,  moved  with  his  family 


THE    DAVIESS    FAMILY.  263 

to  Kentucky,  and  took  up  his  abode  at  Whitley's 
station  in  Lincoln.  After  residing  for  some  time 
at  this  place,  he  removed  with  his  family  to  a 
spot  called  Gilmer's  Lick,  some  six  or  seven 
miles  distant,  where  he  built  a  cabin,  and  cleared 
some  land,  which  he  planted  with  corn  the  next 
season,  not  apprehending  any  danger  from  the 
Indians,  although  he  was  considered  a  frontier 
settler. 

But  this  imaginary  state  of  security  did  not 
last  long ;  for  on  a  morning  in  the  month  of 
August,  in  the  year  1782,  ha^ang  stepped  a  few 
paces  from  his  door,  he  was  suddenly  surprised 
by  an  Indian's  appearing  between  him  and  the 
door,  with  tomahawk  uplifted,  almost  within 
striking  distance.  In  this  unexpected  condition, 
and  being  entirely  unarmed,  his  first  thought 
was,  that  by  running  round  the  house,  he  could 
enter  the  door  in  safety ;  but  to  his  surprise,  ir 
attempting  to  effect  this  object,  as  he  approached 
the  door,  he  found  the  house  full  of  Indians. 
Being  closely  pursued  by  the  first  Indian,  he 
made  his  way  into  the  cornfield,  w^here  he  con- 
cealed himself,  with  much  difficulty,  until  the 
pursuing  Indian  had  returned  to  the  house. 

Unable  as  he  was  to  render  any  rehef  to  hia 
family — there  being  five  Indians — he  ran  with 


264  THE    DAVIESS    FAMILY. 

tlie  utmost  speed  to  the  station  of  his  brother 
James  Daviess  —  a  distance  of  five  miles.  As 
he  approached  the  station,  his  undressed  con- 
dition told  the  tale  of  his  distresses,  before  he 
was  able  to  tell  it  himself.  Almost  breathless, 
and  with  a  faltering  voice,  he  could  only  say,  his 
wife  and  children  were  in  the  hands  of  the  In- 
dians. Scarcely  was  the  communication  made 
when  he  obtained  a  spare  gun,  and  the  five  men 
in  the  station,  well  armed,  followed  him  to  his 
residence. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house,  the  Indians,  as 
well  as  the  family,  were  not  to  be  found,  and 
no  evidence  appeared  that  any  of  the  family  had 
been  killed.  A  search  was  made  after  the 
direction  the  Indians  had  taken ;  but  owing  to 
the  dryness  of  the  ground,  and  the  adroit  man- 
ner in  which  they  had  departed,  no  discovery 
ensued.  In  this  state  of  perplexity,  the  party 
being  all  good  woodsmen,  took  that  direc- 
tion in  pursuit  of  the  Indians,  which  they 
thought  it  most  probable  they  would  adopt. 
After  going  a  few  miles,  their  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  howling  of  a  dog,  which  after- 
ward turned  out  to  be  a  housedog  that  had 
followed  the  family,  and  which  the  Indians  had 
undertaken  to   kill,  so   as  to    avoid   detection, 


THE    DAVIESS    FAM/LY  266 

which  mi^ht  result  from  his  occasionally  bark- 
ing. In  attempting  to  kill  the  dog,  he  only 
wounded  it,  which  produced  the  howhng  that  was 
heard.  The  noise  thus  heard  satisfied  them  that 
they  were  near  the  Indians,  and  enabled  them  to 
rush  forward  with  the  utmost  impetuosity. 

Two  of  the  Indians  being  in  the  rear  as  spies, 
discovering  the  approach  of  the  party,  ran  for- 
ward where  the  other  Indians  were  with  the 
family.  One  of  them  knocked  down  the  oldest 
boy,  about  eleven  years  old,  and  while  in  the 
act  of  scalping  him,  was  fired  at,  but  without 
effect.  Mrs.  Daviess,  seeing  the  agitation  and 
alarm  of  the  Indians,  saved  herself  and  sucking 
child,  by  jumping  into  a  sink-hole.  The  Indians 
did  not  stop  to  secure  their  prisoners,  but  fled 
in  the  most  precipitate  manner. 

In  this  way,  the  family  was  rescued  by  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  without  the  loss  of  a  sin- 
gle life,  and  without  any  injury  but  that  above 
mentioned.  So  soon  as  the  boy  had  risen  on 
his  feet,  the  first  words  he  spoke  were,  "  Ciirse 
that  Indian,  he  has  got  my  scalp. ^^  After  the 
family  had  been  rescued,  Mrs.  Daviess  gave  the 
following  account  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
Indians  had  acted.  A  few  minutes  after  her 
husband  had  stepped  out  of  the  house,  four  In- 

r.— X 


266  THE    DAVIESS    FAMILY. 

dians  rushed  in,  while  the  fifth,  as  she  afterward 
found  out,  was  in  pursuit  of  her  husband.  She 
and  the  children  were  in  bed,  when  the  Indians 
entered  the  house.  One  of  the  Indians  immedi- 
ately made  signs,  by  which  she  understood  him 
to  inquire  how  far  it  was  to  the  next  house 
With  an  unusual  presence  of  mind,  knowing 
how  important  it  would  be  to  make  the  distance 
as  far  as  possible,  she  raised  both  her  hands, 
first  counting  the  fingers  of  one  hand  then  oi 
the  other  —  making  a  distance  of  eight  miles 
The  Indian  then  signed  to  her,  that  she  must 
rise :  she  immediately  got  up,  and  as  soon  as 
she  could  dress  herself,  commenced  showing  the 
Indians  one  article  of  clothing  and  then  another, 
which  pleased  them  very  much  :  and  in  that  way, 
delayed  them  at  the  house  nearly  two  hours. 
In  the  meantime,  the  Indian  who  had  been  in 
pursuit  of  her  husband,  returned  with  his  hands 
stained  with  pokeberries,  which  he  held  up, 
and  with  some  violent  gestures,  and  waving  oi 
his  tomahawk,  attempted  to  induce  the  belief, 
that  the  stain  on  his  hands  was  the  blood  of  her 
husband,  and  that  he  had  killed  him.  She  was 
enabled  at  once  to  discover  the  deception,  and 
instead  of  producing  any  alarm  in  her  mind,  it 
satisfied  her  that  her-  husband  had  escaped  unin- 
jured. 


THE    DAVIESS    FAMILY.  267 

After  the  savages  had  plundered  the  house  ol 
everything  that  they  could  conveniently  carry 
off  vrith  them,  they  started,  taking  Mrs.  Daviess 
and  her  children — seven  in  number,  as  prison- 
ers. Some  of  the  children  v^ere  too  young  to 
travel  as  fast  as  the  Indians  wished,  and  discov- 
ering, as  she  believed,  their  intention  to  kill 
such  of  them  as  could  not  conveniently  travel, 
she  made  the  two  oldest  boys  carry  them  on 
their  backs.  The  Indians,  in  starting  from  the 
house,  were  very  careful  to  leave  no  signs  of 
the  direction  they  had  taken,  not  even  permit- 
ting the  children  to  break  a  twig  or  weed,  as 
they  passed  along.  They  had  not  gone  far, 
before  an  Indian  drew  his  knife  and  cut  off  a 
few  inches  of  Mrs.  Daviess's  dress,  so  that  she 
would  not  be  interrupted  in  travelling. 

Mrs.  Daviess  was  a  woman  of  cool,  deliberate 
courage,  and  accustomed  to  handle  the  gun  so 
that  she  could  shoot  well,  as  many  of  the  women 
were  in  the  habit  of  doing  in  those  days.  She 
had  contemplated,  as  a  last  resort,  that  if  not 
rescued  in  the  course  of  the  day,  when  night 
came,  and  the  Indians  had  fallen  asleep,  she 
would  deliver  herself  and  children  by  killing  as 
many  of  the  Indians  as  she  could  —  thinking 
that   in  a   night  attack   as  many  of  them   as 


268  THE    DAVIESS    FAMILY. 

were  spared  would  most  probably  run  off.  Sucti 
an  attempt  would  now  seem  a  species  of  madness ; 
but  to  those  who  were  acquainted  with  Mrs. 
Daviess,  little  doubt  was  entertained  that  if  the 
attempt  had  been  made,  it  would  have  proved 
successful. 

The  boy  who  had  been  scalped,  was  greatly 
disfigured,  as  the  hair  never  after  grew  upon 
that  part  of  his  head.  He  often  wished  for  an 
opportunity  to  avenge  himself  upon  the  Indians 
for  the  injury  he  had  received.  Unfortunately 
for  himself,  ten  years  afterward,  the  Indians 
came  to  the  neighborhood  of  his  father  and  stole 
a  number  of  horses.  With  a  party  of  men  he 
went  in  pursuit  of  them,  and  after  following 
them  for  some  days,  the  Indians  finding  that 
they  were  likely  to  be  overtaken,  placed  them- 
selves in  ambush,  and  when  their  pursuers  came 
up,  killed  young  Daviess  and  one  other  man 
so  that  he  ultimately  fell  into  their  hands  when 
about  twenty-one  years  old. 

The  next  year  after,  the  father  died,  his  death 
being  caused,  as  it  was  supposed,  by  the  extra- 
ordinary efforts  he  made  to  release  his  famil} 
from  the  Indians. 

Another  act  of  courage   displayed   by   Mrs 


THE    DAVIESS    FAMILY.  269 

Daviess,  is  calculated  to  exhibit  her  character  in 
its  true  point  of  view. 

Kentucky,  in  its  early  days,  like  most  new 
countries,  was  occasionally  troubled  by  men  ot 
abandoned  character,  who  lived  by  stealing  the 
property  of  others,  and,  after  committing  their 
depredations,  retired  to  their  hiding-places,  there- 
by eluding  the  operation  of  the  law.  One  of 
these  marauders,  a  man  of  desperate  character, 
who  had  committed  extensive  thefts  from  Mr 
Daviess  as  well  as  from  his  neighbors,  was  pur- 
sued by  Daviess  and  a  party  whose  property  he 
had  taken,  in  order  to  bring  him  to  justice. 
While  the  party  were  in  pursuit,  the  suspected 
individual,  not  knowing  any  one  was  pursuing 
him,  came  to  the  house  of  Daviess,  armed  with 
his  gun  and  tomahawk  —  no  person  being  at 
home  but  Mrs.  Daviess  and  her  children.  After 
he  had  entered  the  house,  Mrs.  Daviess  asked 
him  if  he  would  drink  something  —  and  having 
set  a  bottle  of  whiskey  upon  the  table,  requested 
him  to  help  himself.  The  fellow  not  suspecting 
any  danger,  set  his  gun  up  by  the  door,  and 
while  drinking,  Mrs.  Daviess  picked  up  his  gim, 
and  placing  herself  in  the  door,  had  Ihe  gun 
cocked  and  levelled  upon  him  by  the  time  he 
turned   around,   and   in  a   peremptory   manner 


270  THE    DAVIESS   FAMILY. 

ordered  him  to  take  a  seat,  or  she  would  shoot 
him.  Struck  with  terror  and  alarm,  he  asked 
what  he  had  done.  She  told  him,  he  had  stolen 
her  husband's  property,  and  that  she  intended  to 
take  care  of  him  herself.  In  that  condition,  she 
held  him  a  prisoner,  until  the  party  of  men 
returned  and  took  him  into  their  possession. 

Bradbury,  in  his  "  Travels  in  the  Interior  of 
North  America,"  relates  the  following  perilous 
adventure  of  John  Colter,  a  hunter :  — 

Colter  came  to  St.  Louis  in  May,  1810,  in  a 
small  canoe,  from  the  head  waters  of  the  Mis- 
souri, a  distance  of  three  thousand  miles,  which 
he  traversed  in  thirty  days.  I  saw  him  on  his 
arrival,  and  received  from  him  an  account  of  his 
adventures,  after  he  had  separated  from  Lewis 
and  Clarke's  party.  One  of  these,  for  its  sin- 
gularity, I  shall  relate. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  party  at  the  head  waters 
of  the  Missouri,  Colter,  observing  an  appearance 
of  an  abundance  of  beavers  being  there,  obtained 
permission  to  remain,  and  hunt  for  some  time, 
which  he  did,  in  company  with  a  man  of  the 
name  of  Dixon^  who  had  traversed  the  immense 
tract  of  country,  from  St.  Louis  to  the  head 
waters  of  the  Missouri,  alone.  Soon  afterward, 
he  separated  from  Dixon,  and  trapped  in  com* 


colter's  escape.  271 

pany  with  a  hunter,  named  Potts ;  smd,  aware 
of  the  hostihty  of  the  Blackfoot  Indians  —  one 
of  whom  had  been  killed  by  Lewis  —  they  set 
their  traps  at  night,  and  took  them  up  early  in 
the  morning,  remaining  concealed  during  the 
day.  They  were  examining  their  traps  early 
one  morning,  in  a  creek  about  six  miles  from 
that  branch  of  the  Missouri  now  called  Jeffer- 
son's Fork,  and  were  ascending  in  a  canoe, 
when  they  suddenly  heard  a  great  noise,  re- 
sembling the  trampling  of  animals;  but  they 
could  not  ascertain  the  fact,  as  the  high  perpen- 
dicular banks  on  each  side  of  the  river  impeded 
their  view.  Colter  immediately  pronounced  it 
to  be  occasioned  by  Indians,  and  advised  an  in- 
stant retreat — but  was  accused  of  cowardice  by 
Potts,  who  insisted  that  the  noise  was  caused  by 
buffaloes  —  and  they  proceeded  on. 

In  a  few  minutes  afterward,  their  doubts  were 
removed  by  a  party  of  Indians  making  their 
appearance  on  both  sides  of  the  creek,  to  the 
amount  of  five  or  six  hundred,  who  beckoned 
them  to  come  ashore.  As  the  retreat  was  now 
impossible,  Colter  turned  the  head  of  the  canoe, 
and,  at  the  moment  of  its  touching,  an  Indian 
seized  the  rifle  belonging  to  Potts  ;  but  Colter, 
who  is  a  remarkably  strong  man  —  retook  it 


272 


immediately,  and  handed  it  to  Potts,  who  re- 
mained in  the  canoe,  and,  on  receiving  it,  pushed 
off  into  the  river.  He  had  scarcely  quitted  th« 
shore,  when  an  arrow  was  shot  at  him,  and  hi 
cried  out,  "Colter,  I  am  wounded!"  Coltei 
remonstrated  with  him  on  the  folly  of  attempting 
to  escape,  and  urged  him  to  come  on  shore. 
Instead  of  complying,  he  instantly  levelled  his 
rifle  at  the  Indian,  and  shot  him  dead  on  the 
spot.  This  conduct,  situated  as  he  was,  may 
appear  to  have  been  an  act  of  madness ;  but  it 
was,  doubtless,  the  effect  of  sudden,  but  sound 
reasoning :  for,  if  taken  alive,  he  must  have  ex- 
pected to  be  tortured  to  death,  according  to  their 
custom.  He  was  instantly  pierced  with  arrows 
so  numerous,  that,  to  use  Colter's  words,  "  he 
was  made  a  riddle  of."  They  now  seized  Col- 
ter, stripped  him  entirely  naked,  and  began  to 
consult  on  the  manner  he  should  be  put  to  death. 
They  were  first  inclined  to  set  him  up  as  a 
mark  to  shoot  at ;  but  the  chief  interfered,  and, 
seizing  him  by  the  shoulder,  asked  him  if  he 
could  run  fast.  Colter — who  had  been  some 
time  among  the  Keekatso  or  Crow  Indians  — 
had,  in  a  considerable  degree,  acquired  the 
Blackfoot  language,  and  was  also  well  acquaint- 
ed with  Indian  customs.     He  knew  that  he  hat^ 


273 


now  to  run  for  his  life,  with  the  dreadful  odds  of 
five  or  six  hundred  against  him,  and  those  armed 
Indians;  he,  therefore,  cunningly  repHed,that  he 
was  a  very  bad  runner,  although  he  was  con- 
sidered by  the  hunters  as  remarkably  swift. 
The  chief  now  commanded  the  party  to  remain 
stationary;  and  he  led  Colter  out  on  the  prairie, 
three  or  four  hundred  yards,  and  released  him, 
bidding  him,  save  himself  if  he  could. 

At  this  instant,  the  horrid  warwhoop  sounded 
m  the  ears  of  poor  Colter ;  who,  urged  with  the 
hope  of  preserving  his  life,  ran  with  a  speed  at 
which  himself  was  surprised.  He  proceeded 
toward  the  Jefferson  Fork,  having  to  traverse  a 
plain  six  miles  in  breadth,  abounding  vrith 
prickly  pear,  on  which  he  was  every  instant 
treading  with  his  naked  feet.  He  ran  nearly 
half  way  across  the  plain,  before  he  ventured  to 
look  back  over  his  shoulder ;  when  he  perceived 
the  Indians  were  very  much  scattered,  and  that 
he  gained  ground  to  a  considerable  distance 
from  the  main  body :  but  one  Indian,  who  car- 
ried a  spear,  was  much  before  all  the  rest,  and 
not  more  than  ninety  or  one  hundred  yards  from 
him.  A  faint  gleam  of  hope  now  cheered  the 
heart  of  Colter.  He  derived  confidence  from 
the  belief,  that  escape  was  within  the  bounds  of 
12—18 


274 


possibility —  but  that  confidence  was  nearly  fatal 
to  him ;  for  he  exerted  himself  to  such  a  degree^ 
that  the  blood  gushed  from  his  nostrils,  and  sood 
almost  covered  the  forepart  of  his  body. 

He  had  now  arrived  within  a  mile  of  the  river, 
when  he  distinctly  heard  the  appalhng  sound  of 
footsteps  behind  him,  and  every  instant  expected 
to  feel  the  spear  of  his  pursuer.  Again  he  turn- 
ed his  head,  and  saw  the  savage  not  twenty 
yards  from  him.  Determined,  if  possible,  to 
avoid  the  expected  blow,  he  suddenly  stopped, 
turned  round,  and  spread  out  his  arms.  The 
Indian,  surprised  by  the  suddenness  of  the  action, 
and,  perhaps,  by  the  bloody  appearance  of  Col- 
ter—  also  attempted  to  stop.  But,  exhausted 
with  running,  he  fell  while  endeavoring  to  throw 
his  spear,  which  struck  in  the  ground  and  broke. 
Colter  instantly  snatched  up  the  pointed  part, 
with  which  he  pinned  him  to  the  earth,  and  then 
continued  his  flight.  The  foremost  of  the  In- 
dians, on  arriving  at  the  place,  stopped  till  others 
came  up  to  join  them;  when  they  set  up  a  hide- 
ous yell.  Every  moment  of  time  was  improved 
by  Colter,  who,  although  fainting  and  exhausted, 
succeeded  in  gaining  the  skirting  of  the  cotton 
wood  trees,  on  the  borders  of  the  Fork.  Through 
this  he  pushed,  and  plunged  into  the  river. 


colter's  escape.  275 

Fortunately  for  him,  a  little  below  this  place 
there  was  an  island,  against  the  upper  end  of 
which  a  raft  of  drift  timber  had  lodged.  He 
dived  under  the  raft,  and,  after  several  efforts, 
got  his  head  above  water  among  the  trunks  of 
the  trees,  covered  over  with  smaller  wood  to  the 
depth  of  several  feet.  Scarcely  had  he  secreted 
himself,  when  the  Indians  arrived  on  the  river, 
"  screeching  and  yelling,"  as  Colter  expressed  it. 
"  hke  so  many  devils."  They  were  frequently 
on  the  raft  during  the  day,  and  were  seen  through 
the  chinks  by  Colter,  who  was  congratulating 
himself  on  his  escape  —  until  the  idea  arose  that 
they  might  set  the  raft  on  fire.  In  horrible  sus- 
pense, he  remained  until  night ;  when,  hearing 
no  more  of  the  Indians,  he  dived  a  second  time 
under  the  raft,  and  swam  silently  down  the 
stream  to  a  considerable  distance,  where  he 
landed,  and  travelled  all  night. 

Although  happy  in  having  escaped  from  the 
savages,  his  situation  was  still  dreadful :  —  he 
was  completely  naked  —  the  soles  of  his  fee' 
were  stuck  full  with  spines  of  the  prickly  pear 
i&puntia) — he  was  hungry,  and  had  no  means 
of  killing  game,  though  tantalized  with  plenty 
around  him  —  and  was  at  least  seven  days' 
'.ourney   from   Lisa's   Fort,  on   the  Big  Horn 


276  colter's  escape. 

branch  of  the  Rocke  Jaune  river.  These  were 
circumstances  under  which  almost  any  man,  but 
an  American  hunter,  would  have  sunk  in  despair. 
And  yet  he  arrived  at  the  fort  in  seven  days — 
having  subsisted  on  a  root,  much  esteemed  by 
the  Indians  of  the  Missouri,  and  now  known  to 
naturalists  as  psoralsa  esculata.  And  here  we 
end  the  perilous  tale. 


4   FOREST   ON   FIRE.  277 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

4     FOREST     ON     FIRE THE     REGULATORS AVA- 
LANCHE   OF   THE  WHITE   MOUNTAINS DISCOVERY 

OF   A    CAVE. 

Audubon,  in  his  interesting  ornithological 
iMography,  gives  the  following  characteristic 
narrative  related  by  a  lumberer,  whom  he  met 
with  in  Maine.  The  bm-ning  of  forests  has  aot 
i)een  an  infrequent  accident  in  Maine,  and  the 
less  settled  districts  of  our  northern  states. 

"  We  were  sound  asleep  one  night,"  said  the 
lumberer,  "  when,  about  two  hours  before  day, 
the  snorting  of  the  horses,  and  lowing  of  the 
cattle  which  I  had  ranging  in  the  woods,  sud- 
denly awakened  us.  I  took  my  rifle,  and  went 
to  the  door  to  see  what  beast  had  caused  the 
hubbub,  when  I  was  struck  by  the  glare  of  light 
reflected  on  all  the  trees  before  me,  as  far  as  I 
coukl  see  through  the  woods.     My  horses  were 


278  A    FOREST    ON    FIRE. 

leaping  about,  snorting  loudly,  and  the  cattle  ran 
among  them  with  their  tails  raised  straight  over 
their  backs.  On  going  to  the  back  of  the  house, 
I  plainly  heard  the  crackling  made  by  the  burn- 
ing brushwood,  and  saw  the  flames  coming 
toward  us  in  a  far  extended  line.  I  ran  to  the 
house,  told  my  wife  to  dress  herself  and  the  child 
as  quickly  as  possible,  and  take  the  little  money 
we  had,  while  I  managed  to  catch  and  saddle 
the  two  best  horses.  All  this  was  done  in  a  very 
short  time,  for  I  guessed  that  every  moment  was 
precious  to  us. 

"  We  then  mounted  and  made  off  from  the 
fire.  My  wife,  who  is  an  excellent  rider, 
stuck  close  to  me  ;  my  daughter,  who  was  then 
a  small  child,  I  took  in  one  arm.  When  making 
off  as  I  said,  I  looked  back  and  saw  that  the 
frightful  blaze  was  close  upon  us,  and  had  al- 
ready laid  hold  of  the  house.  By  good  luck, 
there  was  a  horn  attached  to  my  hunting  clothes, 
and  I  blew  it,  to  bring  after  us  if  possible  the 
remainder  of  my  live  stock  as  well  as  the  dogs. 
The  cattle  followed  for  a  while  ;  but,  before  an 
hour  had  elapsed,  they  all  ran  as  if  mad  through 
the  woods,  and  that,  sir,  was  the  last  of  them. 
My  dogs,  too,  although  at  all  other  times  ex- 
tremel}   tractable,  ran  after  the   deer  that   in 


A    FOREST    ON    FIRE.  279 

bodies  sprang  before  us,  as  if  fully  aware  of  the 
death  that  was  so  rapidly  approaching. 

"  We  heard  blasts  trom  the  horns  of  our  neigh- 
bors, as  we  proceeded,  and  knew  that  they  were 
in  the  same  predicament.  Intent  on  striving  to 
the  utmost  to  preserve  our  lives,  I  thought  of  a 
large  lake  some  miles  off,  which  might  possibly 
check  the  flames  ;  and,  urging  my  wife  to  whip 
up  her  horse,  we  set  off  at  full  speed,  making 
the  best  way  we  could  over  the  fallen  trees  and 
the  brush-heaps,  which  lay  like  so  many  articles 
placed  on  purpose  to  keep  up  the  terrific  fires 
that  advanced  with  a  broad  front  upon  us. 

"  By  this  time  we  could  feel  the  heat ;  and 
we  w^ere  afraid  that  our  horses  would  drop  every 
instant.  A  singular  kind  of  breeze  was  passing 
over  our  heads,  and  the  glare  of  the  atmosphere 
shone  over  the  daylight.  I  was  sensible  of  a 
slight  faintness,  and  my  wife  looked  pale.  The 
heat  had  produced  such  a  flush  in  the  child's 
face,  that  when  she  turned  toward  either  of  us 
our  grief  and  perplexity  were  greatly  increased. 
Ten  miles,  you  know,  are  soon  gone  over  on  swift 
horses ;  but  notwithstanding  this,  when  we 
reached  the  borders  of  the  lake,  covered  witfc 
sweat  and  quite  exhausted,  our  hearts  failed  us 
The  heat  of  the  smoke  was  insufferable,  and 


280  A   FOREST   ON   FIRE. 

sheets  of  blazing  fire  flew  over  us  in  a  mannei 
beyond  belief.  We  reached  the  shores,  how- 
ever, coasted  along  the  lake  for  a  while,  and  got 
round  to  the  lee  side.  There  we  gave  up  our 
horses,  which  we  never  saw  again.  Down 
among  the  rushes  we  plunged  by  the  edge  of  the 
water,  and  laid  ourselves  flat,  to  wait  the  chance 
of  escaping  from  being  burnt  or  devoured.  The 
water  refreshed  us,  and  we  enjoyed  the  coolness 

"On  went  the  fire,  rushing  and  crashing 
through  the  woods.  Such  a  sight  may  we  never 
see !  The  heavens  themselves,  I  thought,  were 
fiightened,  for  all  above  us  was  a  red  glare, 
mixed  with  clouds  of  smoke,  rolling  and  sweep- 
ing away.  Our  bodies  were  cool  enough,  but 
our  heads  were  scorching,  and  the  child,  who 
now  seemed  to  understand  the  matter,  cried  so 
as  nearly  to  break  our  hearts. 

"  The  day  passed  on,  and  we  became  hungry. 
Many  wild  beasts  came  plunging  into  the  water 
beside  us,  and  others  swam  across  to  our  side 
and  stood  still.  Although  faint  and  weary,  1 
managed  to  shoot  a  porcupine,  and  we  all  tasted 
its  flesh.  The  night  passed  I  cannot  tell  you 
how.  Smouldering  fires  covered  the  ground, 
and  the  trees  stood  like  pillars  of  fire,  or  fell 
across  each  other.     The  stifling  and  sickening 


A    FOREST    ON    FIKE.  281 

Jmoke  still  rushed  over  us,  and  the  burnt  cinders 
md  ashes  fell  thick  about  us.  How  we  got 
through  that  night,  I  really  cannot  tell,  for 
\bout  some  of  it  I  remember  nothing. 

"Toward  morning,  although  the  heat  did 
not  abate,  the  smoke  became  less,  and  blasts  of 
fresh  air  sometimes  made  their  way  to  us. 
When  morning  came,  all  was  calm,  but  a  dis- 
mal smoke  still  filled  the  air,  and  the  smell 
seemed  worse  than  ever.  We  were  now  cooled 
enough,  and  shivered  as  if  in  an  ague-fit ;  so  we 
removed  from  the  water,  and  went  up  to  a  burn- 
ing log,  where  we  warmed  ourselves.  What 
was  to  become  of  us  I  did  not  know.  My  wife 
hugged  the  child  to  her  breast,  and  wept  bitterly ; 
but  God  had  preserved  us  through  the  worst  of 
the  danger,  and  the  flames  had  gone  past,  so  I 
thought  it  would  be  both  ungrateful  to  him  and 
unmanly  to  despair  now.  Hunger  once  more 
\)ressed  upon  us,  but  this  was  easily  remedied. 
Several  deer  were  still  standing  in  the  water, 
up  to  the  head,  and  I  shot  one  of  them.  Some 
of  its  flesh  was  soon  roasted ;  and,  after  eating 
it,  we  felt  wonderfully  strengthened. 

"  By  this  time  the  blaze  of  the  fire  was  beyond 
our  sight,  though  the  ground  was  still  burning 
in   many  places,  and  it  w^as  dangerous  to  go 

I— Y 


282  THE    REGULATORS. 

among  the  burnt  trees.  After  resting  a  while, 
and  trimming  ourselves,  we  prepared  to  com- 
mence our  march.  Taking  up  the  child,  I  led 
the  way  over  the  hot  ground  and  rocks ;  and, 
after  two  weary  days  and  nights,  during  which 
we  shifted  in  the  best  manner  we  could,  we  at 
last  reached  the  *  hard  woods,'  which  had 
escaped  the  fire.  Soon  after,  we  came  to  a 
house,  where  we  were  kindly  treated  for  a  while. 
Since  then,  sir,  I  have  worked  hard  and  con- 
stantly as  a  lumberer  ;  but,  thanks  to  God,  here 
we  are,  safe,  sound,  and  happy  I" 

The  population  of  some  parts  of  America  is 
derived  from  the  refuse  of  every  other  country. 
The  most  depraved  of  these  emigrants  are  forced 
to  retreat  farther  and  farther  from  the  society  of 
the  virtuous,  the  restraints  imposed  by  which 
they  find  incompatible  with  their  habits  and  the 
gratification  of  their  unbridled  passions.  On  the 
extreme  verge  of  civihzation,  however,  their  evil 
propensities  find  more  free  scope,  and  the  dread 
of  punishment  for  their  deeds,  or  the  infliction  of 
that  punishment,  are  the  only  means  that  prove 
effectual  in  reforming  them. 

In  those  remote  parts,  no  sooner  is  it  discovei  - 
ed  that  an  individual  has  conducted  himself  in  a 
notoriously  vicious   manner,  or  has  committed 


THE    REGULATORS.  283 

some  outrage  upon  society,  than  a  conclave  of 
the  honest  citizens  takes  place,  for  the  purpose 
of  investigating  the  case  with  a  rigor,  without 
which  no  good  result  could  be  expected.  These 
citizens,  selected  from  among  the  most  respecta- 
ble persons  in  the  district,  and  vested  with  pow- 
ers, suited  to  the  necessity  of  preserving  order 
on  the  frontiers,  are  named  regulators.  The 
accused  person  is  arrested,  his  conduct  exposed, 
and  if  he  is  found  guilty  of  a  first  crime,  he  is 
warned  to  leave  the  country,  and  go  farther  from 
society,  within  an  appointed  time.  Should  the 
individual  prove  so  callous  as  to  disregard  the 
sentence,  and  remain  in  the  same  neighborhood, 
to  commit  new  crimes,  then  wo  be  to  him  ;  for 
the  regulators,  after  proving  him  guilty  a  second 
time,  pass  and  execute  a  sentence,  which,  if  not 
enough  to  make  him  perish  under  the  infliction, 
is  at  least  for  ever  impressed  on  his  memory 
The  punishment  inflicted  is  generally  a  severe 
castigation,  and  the  destruction,  by  fire,  of  his 
cabin.  Sometimes,  in  cases  of  reiterated  theft,  or 
murder,  death  is  considered  necessary  -,  and,  in 
some  instances,  delinquents  of  the  worst  species 
have  been  shot,  after  which  their  heads  have 
been  stuck  on  poles,  to  deter  others  from  follow 
ing  their  example. 


284  THE    REGULATORS. 

The  name  of  Mason  is  stili  familiar  to  many 
of  the  navigators  of  the  Lower  Ohio  and  Mis- 
sissippi. By  dint  of  industry  in  bad  deeds  he 
became  a  notorious  horse-stealer,  formed  a  hne 
of  worthless  associates  from  the  eastern  parts  of 
Virginia  to  New  Orleans,  and  had  a  settlement 
on  Wolf  island,  not  far  from  the  confluence  of 
the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  from  which  he  issued 
to  stop  the  flat-boats,  and  rifle  them  of  such  pro- 
visions and  other  articles  as  he  and  his  party 
needed.  His  depredations  became  the  talk  of 
the  whole  western  country;  and,  to  pass  Wolf 
island  was  not  less  to  be  dreaded  than  to  anchor 
under  the  walls  of  Algiers.  The  horses,  the 
negroes,  and  the  cargoes,  his  gang  carried  ofl" 
and  sold.  At  last,  a  body  of  regulators  under- 
took, at  great  peril,  and  for  the  sake  of  the 
country,  to  bring  the  villain  to  punishment. 

Mason  was  as  cunning  and  watchful  as  he  was 
active  and  daring.  Many  of  his  haunts  were 
successively  found  out  and  searched,  but  the 
numerous  spies  in  his  employ  enabled  him  to 
escape  in  time.  One  day,  however,  as  he  was 
riding  a  beautiful  horse  in  the  woods,  he  was  met 
by  one  of  the  regulators  who  immediately  re- 
cognised him,  but  passed  him  as  if  an  utter 
stranger.      Mason,   not    dreaming   of   danger 


THE   REGULATORS.  285 

pursued  his  way  leisurely,  as  if  he  had  met  no 
one.  But  he  was  dogged  by  the  regulator,  and 
in  such  a  manner  as  proved  fatal  to  him.  At 
dusk,  Mason  having  reached  the  lowest  part  of  a 
ravine,  no  doubt  well  known  to  him,  hoppled 
(tied  together  the  fore-legs  of)  his  stolen  horse, 
to  enable  it  to  feed  during  the  night  without  the 
chance  of  straying  far,  and  concealed  himself  in 
a  hollow  log  to  spend  the  night.  The  plan  was 
good,  but  proved  his  ruin. 

The  regulator,  who  knew  every  hill  and 
hollow  of  the  woods,  marked  the  place  and  the 
log  with  the  eye  of  an  experienced  hunter,  and 
as  he  remarked  that  Mason  was  most  efficiently 
armed,  he  galloped  off  to  the  nearest  house, 
where  he  knew  he  should  find  assistance.  This 
was  easily  procured,  and  the  party  proceeded  to 
the  spot.  Mason,  on  being  attacked,  defended 
himself  with  desperate  valor  ;  and,  as  it  proved 
impossible  to  secure  him  alive,  he  was  brough* 
to  the  ground  with  a  rifle-ball.  His  head  was 
cut  off  and  stuck  on  the  end  of  a  broken  branch 
The  gang  soon  dispersed  in  consequence  of  the 
loss  of  their  leader,  and  this  infliction  of  punish- 
ment deterred  others  from  following  a  similar 
predatory  life.  The  necessity  must  be  desperate, 
indeed,  that  can  justify  such  proceedings,  even 
u-here  the  culorit  is  ever  so  guiitv. 


286     AVALANCHE    OF    THE    WHITE    MOUNTAINS. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  August,  1826,  there 
occurred  one  of  the  most  remarkable  floods  ever 
known  in  the  mountainous  regions  of  New  Hamp- 
shire; and  which  w^as  attended  by  the  awful 
calamity  of  the  destruction  of  a  whole  family 
by  an  avalanche  or  slide  from  the  mountains. 

These  avalanches,  as  they  are  termed  in 
Switzerland,  are  produced  by  heavy  rains. 
They  commence  generally  near  the  highest 
limits  of  vegetation  on  the  mountains,  which,  on 
some  of  them,  is  near  their  summits.  The  slides 
widening  and  deepening  in  their  downward 
course,  carry  along  all  the  trees,  shrubbery,  loose 
rocks  and  earth,  from  their  granite  foundation. 
At  this  time,  there  were  probably,  thousands  of 
acres  reft  from  the  sides  of  the  White  mountains 
and  carried  to  the  valley  in  the  notch  below. 

The  house  inhabited  by  Captain  Samuel  Wil 
ley  and  his  family,  stood  on  the  westerly  side  of 
the  road  in  the  Notch,  and  a  few  rods  distant 
from  the  high  bluff  w^hich  rises  with  fearful 
rapidity  to  the  height  of  two  thousand  feet 
Adjoining  were  a  barn  and  woodhouse ;  in  front 
w^as  a  beautiful  little  meadow  covered  with  crops, 
^nd  the  Saco  passed  along  at  the  foot  of  the 
easterly  precipice. 

Nearly  in  range  of  the  house,  a  slide  from  the 


AVALANCHE    OF    THE    WHITE    MOUNTAINS.     287 

extreme  point  of  the  westerly  hill  came  down  m 
a  deep  and  horrible  mass  to  within  about  five 
rods  of  the  dwelHng,  where  its  course  appears 
to  have  been  checked  by  a  large  block  of  granite, 
which,  falhng  on  a  flat  surface,  backed  the  rol- 
ling mass  for  a  moment,  until  it  separated  into 
two  streams,  one  of  which  rushed  down  by  the 
north  end  of  the  house,  crushing  the  barn,  and 
spreading  itself  over  the  meadow;  the  other 
passing  down  on  the  south  side,  and  swallowing 
up  the  unfortunate  beings,  who  probably  at- 
tempted to  fly  to  a  shelter,  which,  it  is  said,  had 
been  erected  a  few  rods  distant.  This  shelter, 
whatever  it  might  have  been,  was  completely 
overwhelmed :  rocks  weighing  forty  or  fifty  tuns 
being  scattered  about  the  place,  and  indeed  in 
every  direction,  rendering  escape  utterly  im- 
possible. The  house  remained  untouched, 
though  large  stones  and  trunks  of  trees  made 
fearful  approaches  to  its  walls,  and  the  moving 
mass,  which  separated  behind,  again  united  in 
its  front!  The  house  alone  could  have  been 
their  refuge  from  the  horrible  uproar  around,  the 
only  spot  untouched  by  the  crumbling  and  con- 
suming power  of  the  storm. 

The  family  consisted  of  nine  persons.  Captain 
Willey    his  wife,  five  children,  and  two  men, 


288  PISCOVERY   OF    A    CAVE. 

named  Nickerson  and  Allen;  and  they  all  of  them 
perished  by  this  strange  and  sudden  calamity. 

A  letter  in  a  late  number  of  the  Norwich 
(Con.)  Aurora,  dated  Colebrook,  Litchfield 
county,  Connecticut,  September  the  twenty 
fourth,  1841,  gives  the  following  interesting 
account  of  the  discovery  of  a  cave  in  that  place 
We  need  not  apologize  for  adopting  the  lan- 
guage of  the  writer  :  — 

"  For  several  days  past,  our  usually  quiet  little 
town  has  been  in  quite  a  '  commotion'  in  con- 
sequence of  a  rumored  discovery  of  a  large  cav 
ern  in  the  northwest  part  of  the  town,  bordering 
on  Massachusetts.  I,  at  first,  supposed  the  story 
to  be  a  hoax,  and  treated  it  as  such,  but,  being 
assured  to  the  contrary,  by  a  respectable  neigh- 
bor, who  said  he  had  seen  the  cave,  I  was  in- 
duced to  visit  the  place  designated,  and  have 
had  ocular  demonstration  of  the  truth  of  the 
report.  It  may  appear  incredible  that  a  great 
cavern  should  have  remained  so  long  unknown 
in  this  inhabited  region,  but  it  is  nevertheless 
true.  It  is  probably  large,  but  how  large  is  not 
known,  as  it  has  been  explored  but  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  and  no  one  can  be  found  who 
ever  heard  of  its  existence  before.  I  have  agreed 
with  a  number  of  my  neighbors  to  explore  the 


DISCOVERY    OF   A    CAVE.  289 

ca^  em  as  far  as  practicable,  and  I  propose,  with 
your  permission,  to  give  the  result  of  our  re- 
searches from  time  to  time,  through  the  medium 
of  your  paper. 

"  The  mouth  of  the  cavern  is  on  the  farm  of 
Mr.  Jonas  Randall,  in  the  northwest  part  of  the 
town,  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the  Massachu- 
setts line.  It  is  a  barren,  rocky,  unfrequented 
spot  —  a  projecting  cliff  of  craggy  rock  full  one 
hundred  feet  high,  hangs  over  it  with  an  aspect 
so  threatening  as  to  daunt  the  courage  of  the 
less  daring.  Why  it  does  not  fall  over  no  one 
can  tell.  It  seems  to  stand  against  all  the 
known  laws  of  gravitation. 

"  It  is  called  the  '  Witch's  Retreat,'  but  why  I 
know  not.  When  I  was  a  boy,  my  father  lived 
within  one  mile  of  this  place,  and  I  have  spent 
hours  with  other  boys,  clambering  over  the  rocks, 
and  up  the  side  of  this  precipice.  The  mouth  of 
the  cavern,  at  the  bottom  of  the  precipice,  is 
covered  with  a  huge  mass  of  rocks  which  have 
evidently  fallen  from  the  cliff  above.  Some  of 
them  are  very  large,  and  from  their  size  and 
form  one  may  easily  discover  the  place  from 
which  they  fell.  There  was  nothing  in  the  gen- 
eral appearance  of  the  place  indicating  the  ex- 
istence of  surV  -  cavern,  ind  one  might  clamber 
12—19 


^90  DISCOVERY    OF    A    CAVE. 

about  there  a  week  and  not  suspect  such  a  thing 
The  only  opening  was  under  a  large  rock,  and 
scarcely  large  enough  for  a  boy  to  crawl  into. 
It  could  only  have  been  discovered  by  accident, 
as  it  was. 

"  Two  weeks  ago  last  sabbath,  one  of  Mr 
Randall's  boys,  a  bold,  adventurous  little  fellow, 
and  two  others  scarcely  less  so,  wandeiing  about 
the  fields  for  pastime,  came  to  this  spot.  While 
they  were  amusing  themselves  by  climbing 
about  and  hiding  among  the  rocks,  one  of  the 
boys,  without  knowing  why,  put  his  head  into 
this  hole  under  the  rock,  and  shouted  "  halloo  !" 
He  started  back  at  the  strange  sound,  and  called 
his  companions.  Each  in  turn  put  his  head 
under  the  rock  and  made  some  noise,  which 
resounded  like  the  response  of  a  hundred  voices. 
Boys  though  they  were,  they  had  hallooed  into 
too  many  cisterns  and  vaults  not  to  know  that 
such  reverberations  indicated  room  inside.  So 
young  Randall  proposed  they  should  go  in  and 
see  w^hat  discoveries  they  could  make.  This 
the  other  boys  declined  doing.  But  young  Ran- 
dall, nothing  daunted  by  the  fears  of  his  com- 
rades, boldly  declared  he  would  go  in  alone. 
He  crawled  in  about  eight  feet^  when  he  found 
there  was  room  enough  to  stand  upright.     A 


DISCOVERY   OF   A    CA\E.  291 

few  straggling  rays  of  light  found  their  way 
between  the  rocks,  but  not  sufficient  to  discover 
the  dimensions  of  the  place  he  was  in.  He 
seemed  to  feel,  however,  that  he  was  in  a  large 
place,  as  a  man  blindfolded  will  feel  the  differ- 
ence between  a  small  room  and  a  large  one. 
He  uttered  a  loud  shriek  with  a  view  to  frighten 
his  companions  outside,  but  the  sound  was  so 
wild  and  terrific,  it  only  frightened  himself,  and 
he  came  out  much  quicker  than  he  went  in. 
This  was  a  discovery  just  suited  to  the  adventu- 
rous dispositions  of  these  boys,  and  they  resolved 
to  make  the  most  of  it.  Before  they  parted 
they  agreed  to  keep  the  thing  a  secret  from  all 
others,  and  to  meet  there  on  the  next  Sunday, 
prepared  with  old  clothes,  matches,  a  lantern, 
&c.,  to  explore  the  '  new  cave,'  as  they  called  it. 
"  The  next  Sunday  they  repaired  to  their  ren- 
dezvous, accoutred  according  to  agreement ;  and 
provided  with  the  necessary  implements,  they 
prepared  to  enter.  Boys,  like  men,  will  rarely 
acknowledge  a  want  of  courage,  but  as  each 
accused  the  other  of  being  afraid,  I  conclude 
they  were  all  half  frightened  out  of  their  wits, 
for  it  had  occurred  to  them  that  this  place  was 
called  the  'Witch's  Retreat,'  and  this  cave 
might  be  full  of  witches.     But  with  some  hesi- 


292  DISCOVERY    OF    A    CAVE. 

tation  and  many  misgivings,  they  at  length 
entered.  With  lantern  in  hand,  they  proceeded 
cautiously  forward,  taking  good  care  to  keep  in 
sight  of  the  hole  by  which  they  entered.  Hav- 
mg  gone  about  ten  rods  without  meeting  with 
any  boundary  to  their  cave,  and  their  small 
entering  place  beginning  to  grow  dim  in  the 
distance,  they  judged  it  prudent  to  venture  no 
farther.  The  cavern  was  much  too  large  for 
them  to  explore,  and  they  concluded  to  confide 
the  secret  to  older  and  wiser  heads.  Before 
going  out,  they  determined  to  give  a  loud  shout 
altogether.  I  have  since  tried  it.  The  rever- 
berations are  most  terrific.  Scarcely  had  the 
echo  of  their  shout  died  away,  when  to  their 
consternation  and  horror,  it  was  answered  by  a 
low,  suppressed  growl,  which  seemed  within  a 
few  rods  of  them.  With  one  impulse  they  dart- 
ed toward  the  place  of  entrance.  The  boy  who 
had  the  lantern  dropped  it  in  his  fright,  and  it 
was  not  without  much  rending  of  clothes,  and 
many  severe  contusions  of  body,  that  they  got 
themselves  out.  I  state  this  on  the  authority  of 
the  boys.  We  have  not  yet  found  any  animal, 
nor  tracks  nor  traces  of  one  large  enough  to 
have  made  the  noise  which  the  boys  assure  u> 
they  heard. 


DISCOVERY   OF   A    CAVE.  20?l 

The  boys  having  reported  their  discovery,  Mr. 
Randall  and  several  of  his  neighbors  went  to  the 
place  with  guns  and  crowbars  to  force  an  en- 
trance. This,  however,  they  were  not  able  to 
effect.  The  rocks  were  so  large  as  to  resist  every 
effort  to  remove  theni.  They  bethought  them- 
selves of  the  expedient  of  blasting.  By  this 
means,  on  Saturday  last  they  effected  an  entrance 
large  enough  for  a  man  to  walk  in  upright. 

When  I  arrived,  on  Monday  evening,  there 
were  some  twenty  persons  around  the  cavern, 
and  others  in  it.  I  borrowed  a  lantern  and 
joined  those  on  the  inside.  The  mouth  of  the 
cavern  is  toward  the  southeast.  If  all  the  loose 
stones  in  and  around  it,  which  seem  to  have 
fallen  there  from  the  cliff  above,  were  removed, 
the  mouth  would  be,  as  near  as  I  can  judge, 
about  fifty  feet  wide  and  thirty  feet  high.  The 
air,  on  entering,  has  a  peculiar  smell,  which  I 
can  compare  to  nothing.  I  imagine  the  candle 
burnt  less  brilliantly  than  in  the  open  air.  For 
the  first  three  or  four  rods,  the  way  is  a  good 
deal  obstructed  by  sharp  rocks ;  then  comes  a 
smooth,  gravelled  floor,  as  hard  as  a  M'Adam- 
ized  road.  Ten  rods  fi-om  the  entrance,  we 
measured  and  found  the  width  to  be  eighty-three 
feet ;  and  again,  at  thirty  rods,  we  found  it  six* 


294  DISCOVERY   OF    A    CAVE. 

ty-seven  feet.  The  sides  are  quite  even,  espe- 
cially the  east  side,  which  is  as  smooth  as  if  it 
had  been  chiseled.  The  roof  is  broken  and 
craggy ;  in  some  parts  rising  very  high,  at  oth- 
ers descending  vi^ithin  ten  feet  of  the  floor.  The 
flooring  for  the  most  part  is  level  and  smooth, 
consisting  of  stone  and  hard  gravel.  We  met 
with  several  deep  pits,  into  one  of  which  we 
were  near  falling.  Two  of  them  resembled 
wells.  We  sounded  one  to  the  depth  of  nine 
fathoms,  and  found  water,  and  another  to  the 
depth  of  five  and  a  half  fathoms,  which  appear- 
ed to  be  dry. 

The  main  part  of  the  cave  is  remarkably 
straight  and  uniform  in  width,  for  the  most  part. 
It  runs  in  a  north  and  northeast  direction  for  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  where  it  ends  abruptly.  We 
met  with  numerous  openmgs  at  the  right  and 
left,  some  large  enough  to  admit  a  horse  and 
carriage,  and  others  scarcely  a  man.  We  onlj 
marked  them  with  chalk  and  passed  on  to  the 
end  of  what  seemed  to  be  the  main  part  of  the 
cavern.  Here  we  stopped  for  a  few  moments. 
All  stood  without  speaking,  gazing  about  with 
admiration  and  wonder.  The  silence  was  pain- 
ful. No  dropping  of  water,  or  creaking  of  in- 
sects, not  a  sound  could  be  heard,  but  the  low, 


DISCOVERY    OF    A    CAVE.  295 

suppressed  breathing  of  the  company.  It  seem- 
ed as  if  I  could  hear  their  hearts  beat.  I  looked 
at  my  barometer  —  it  had  risen  several  degrees. 
The  thermometer  stood  at  60  1-2.  As  we  pre- 
pared to  retrace  our  steps,  we  discovered  an 
opening  on  the  west  side,  a  few  rods  from  the 
termination  of  the  part  of  the  cavern  we  were 
in.  We  drew  near  and  listened.  There  was  a 
low,  murmuring  sound,  as  of  a  distant  waterfall, 
and  the  air  which  issued  from  it  seemed  colder 
and  damper.  This  led  us  to  suppose  it  must  be 
of  very  great  extent,  but  we  were  too  cold  and 
weary  to  prosecute  our  researches  farther  at  this 
time. 


END  OF    fOL.    L 


AUG  1  2    1953 


910.4 


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